Just Another Slytherin
by CarolinaFlint
Summary: Carolina Flint has always felt overshadowed by her older brother. Three years her senior and captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, Marcus is adored by both her parents and the rest of their house. Sick of merely being known as "Flint's little sister," Carolina decides to take matters into her own hands. (OC/OC, eventual Fred/OC) Canon-compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

* * *

 _"Dear Carolina,_

 _I'm sure I don't have to remind you of this, but it is your O.W.L. year after all; you must not fall behind on your studies. You have a very full and strenuous schedule from what you told me over the summer, and apart from Muggle Studies (I will never understand why you chose that abominable subject to pursue two years ago) will have to work diligently. You saw what happened to your brother last year, which reminds me: please, in your spare time, be sure to help him out, it would be blasphemous for the regard of our family name if Marcus was to fall behind another year. He's such a talented young man, but I believe he puts his time and efforts into his extracurriculars. Remember, your eligibility is nested in his good name, so please, again, help him achieve the O's I know he deserves._

 _Adoringly,_

 _Your Mother"_

Carolina scowled down at her mother's twirling cursive handwriting. She had merely written home about the first week of Hogwarts—something that was supposed to be a casual update on what she would be studying in each of her 9 classes. She hadn't complained once about the difficulty of her lessons. It was just like her mother to assume that she was struggling in school, while her "talented" brother outshined her. Marcus was talented at one thing, and one thing only, in Carolina's mind, and that was pushing people off their brooms without making it look like a foul.

And did her mother actually expect her to waste her time tutoring her moronic brother? It would be like teaching ballet to a troll or... carpentry to a flobberworm. Her brother had been held back to repeat his seventh year after failing nearly all of his NEWTS, a feat which, although not unexpected to Carolina who had been able to outwit him since she was 8 and he 11, was rather impressive in its own right. He had become captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team in his fourth year and had been so focused on beating the Gryffindor team for the House Cup for the past three years that his grades had suffered (to say the least).

Speaking of her brother, where was he? Carolina looked up from her letter. The Slytherin table was almost full now as there were only ten more minutes of breakfast. Finally, after scanning the long table her eyes found him seated all alone at the far end, nearest the grand old doors. He looked rather miserable, Carolina decided. That made sense. All of his friends had graduated and knowing the Slytherins, the current seventh years wouldn't go out of their way to make him feel welcome among their ranks. Abruptly, Marcus got to his feet. He rolled his shoulders backwards twice before striding off. Carolina took one last bite of toast, grabbed her book bag and hurried off after him.

"Marcus! Hey! Wait up!" She called, just after exiting the great hall. He didn't pause walking, but his gait slowed down enough for her to catch up. "You could have eaten with me, you know."

"Merlin, mind your own business for once," was his sneering reply.

"I was just offering, no need to take that tone."

"Well, I don't need your charity."

"It's not charity, Marcus," Carolina drawled, "Can't a girl want to spend an intimate breakfast with her dear brother?"

Marcus glared at her, the sarcasm obviously rubbing him the wrong way. "Can't you just shut up for once?"

"No need to get your knickers in a twist, I just came by to ask how your first week with the new seventh years went," Carolina said, realizing that at the end of the corridor she would have to turn down the stairs to the potions classroom, and if she wanted to talk to her brother, she would have to get straight to the point.

"They all think they're so much better than me, the lot of them," he grumbled. "And hardly any are full pureblood, you know," he added with a grimace, his upper lip rising in disgust.

"They won't once quidditch starts up again," Carolina offered, hoping this would put her brother in a better mood. He would be more focused in his classes if he wasn't fuming. "Why don't you start holding tryouts?"

Marcus looked at her out the side of his eye. "That's not a bad idea; they'll all be begging to befriend me after we beat Ravenclaw." He almost looked as if he was happy now.

"By the way, mum wrote me. She says that if you need any help with studying that you should ask me," Carolina added, a smug smile tugging at her lips.

"And why would I need your help?" Marcus snarled, his face sour again, before turning left down another corridor.

"Oh, I don't know," Carolina muttered under her breath, "maybe because you're a complete moron who can't tell the difference between a bogart and a braggart," before descending the first of many staircases that would eventually lead her to the potions classroom.

When she arrived she let out a soft groan, spotting a red and gold tie. Gryffindors. But she continued on, placing herself on the right side of the classroom, in the front row, nearest the supply cupboard. She liked to be the first in the class to get to the ingredients so that she could choose the best and get started brewing before her peers.

The class slowly began to fill up until there were only two available seats, one next to Carolina and the other next to a tall, dark skinned girl that Carolina knew to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Wands away and essays out. You are fifth years by now and should know this but if your name isn't on your parchment, you won't get any credit," Professor Snape sneered as he strode into the room amidst a flurry of quills scratching. Carolina, however didn't move a muscle, her essay was neatly written, her name in the top left corner and her potions book out, open to the last page they had left off on Thursday.

Snape' s eyes moved over the room, stopping briefly and approvingly at Carolina, before he swished his wand and all the papers came flying towards his desk and landed neatly in a pile.

"Today, we will begin our first practical lesson. Now, who can tell me what the the proper antidote for anxiety would be?"

"Carolina raised her hand calmly, knowing Snape disliked the overeager students.

"Yes, Ms. Flint?"

"While both a calming Draught and the Draught of Peace would work, the calming Draught is more typically used for overexcitement and is easy to overmedicate, often leading to elongated naps. I would posture that the Draught of Peace would better suit someone with anxiety as it would put their mind at ease, without clouding their thoughts."

"Correct, five points to Slytherin. Now, today we will be starting with the calming Draught, a much simpler potion before we move on to—" Snape stopped mid sentence his eyes flicking from the faces of his students to the back of the classroom, where the heavy wooden door had just shut. Carolina turned around in her seat just slightly. Of course, she couldn't say she was surprised: it was the red-haired, insufferable Weasley twins who had entered the classroom nearly ten minutes late.

"Tardiness..." Snape snarled, "will not be tolerated. Five points from Gryffindor. Each," he added on. "Now please, find a seat."

Carolina watched as the two boys' eyes scanned the classroom. The one on the right immediately took off towards the back of the room, next to the gryffindor girl, where he sat down and raised his eyebrows at his brother. His brother scowled at him, before marching over to sit next to Carolina, who immediately turned her head and body to face the front of the room. She felt her desk shake as the Weasley twin's tall frame slumped down in the seat next to her and let out a verbose sigh, obviously wishing he had moved faster and gotten a seat next to a fellow Gryffindor.

Carolina rolled her eyes. If anyone was unfortunate in this scenario, it was she. The Weasley twins had been just about awful to her ever since they made the Quidditch team in their second year and learned that she was Marcus's younger sister. One time they had even convinced Peeves to drop eggs on her head after Marcus had "accidentally" given a Gryffindor chaser a bloody nose.

She sighed, turning her attention back to Professor Snape who had begun to enumerate the various uses of the calming Draught. The Weasleys were misguided however, it was unlike her brother to take notice if his little sister was the target of a nasty prank, much less care. After a while, the twins had realized Marcus had no clue they were harassing her so much, and had given up, but she had never forgiven them for misplacing their anger on an innocent bystander, only besmirched by her relation.

Whichever twin was sitting next to her remained silent throughout the duration of the class, not even moving his eyes to look at her, which Carolina was grateful for as it enabled her to better focus on the draught which, in her opinion, looked exactly as her textbook said it should.

"Please bottle your vials and bring them up to my desk for grading," Snape said, " And students, make note where you are sitting, these will be your assigned seats for the rest of the term." Carolina's eye flickered to the twin next to her as he groaned into his hands. She quickly stood up with her vial and brought it to Professor Snape's desk.

"Very good work today, Ms. Flint," Snape said, inspecting her vial before putting it next to the others.

"Thank you, sir," Carolina replied, noting the smallest trace of remorse in the Potionmaster's eyes. Perhaps this was the easiest way to keep the Twins from sitting next to each other, Carolina thought. Perhaps Snape had felt a tiny bit sorry for forcing her to proverbially and literally "take one for the team."

She sighed as she collected her book bag and left the classroom. That must be it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"You're brother is a prat, Carolina." Adrian flopped down on the bottle green, velvet couch with a frustrated humph.

"I know," Carolina said as she finished reading a paragraph in "The Goblin's Grievances." Then, carefully placing her bookmark down and closing the book, she turned to face her friend. "But what did he do this time?"

"He replaced me! With Montague of all people! He can barely fly!" Adrian looked demented with rage and Carolina instantly felt bad for telling her brother to hold tryouts. She didn't think he would replace her only real friend with a hulking bully.

"Montague and Warrington!" Adrian continued, "what does he think they're going to add to the team?"

"Maybe he believes that the sheer amount of space they take up on the pitch will make it harder for the Gryffindors to fly?" Carolina attempted a feeble joke. She really did feel bad for Adrian Pucey; they had been friends since first year after she realized she couldn't bare spending a second more with her roommates, Abigail, Morgana and Delia.

But Adrian didn't even show if he had registered her words, he merely stared dejectedly into the fireplace. "I'm going to be the only Slytherin boy in our year who isn't on the team…" He said quietly.

"Maybe that's a good thing," Carolina tried to reassure him. "You'll be the only one who has enough time to focus on your OWLs. Montague and Warrington were having a hard enough time already. You'll be top of the class."

Adrian eyed her. "No, you'll be, and you know it."

Carolina smirked. "Of the boys, then."

"I suppose you're right," he said as he turned back to the fire, sighing.

"Of course I am," she smirked, before opening up her book again. She would never understand how any of her classmates could value their quidditch careers over their academic ones. What was the point of attending Hogwarts if not to learn magic? Surely, Adrian didn't think he was good enough to pursue Quidditch professionally.

"I guess I'll go shower, then," Adrian said as he glumly got up.

"I'll see you at dinner," Carolina responded, already enraptured by her book again. "The Goblin's Grievances" was truly fascinating to her. It had been assigned as extra credit for History of Magic, as they were once again studying the Goblin/Wizard relations of the middle ages, but as opposed to the normal history books Binns assigned, this one covered the rules and customs that organized Goblin laws in dealing with Wizards, which were quite different from any Wizarding ethical code, to say the least.

Carolina suspected that she would be the only student in their year to complete the assignment. While she thoroughly enjoyed history, Professor Binns wasn't one to inspire excitement in his students.

She read for nearly 45 minutes more, before Adrian descended the staircase from the boy's dormitory and glumly suggested they walk to the great hall for dinner. She agreed and skipped up her own respective staircase to put her book away.

"Carolina, there you are!" Abigail Drooble, one of her three roommates, drawled when she entered. Abigail was lounging across her bed with Delia O'Reilly, quite obviously in the midst of a good gossip. "Did you hear about Pucey?"

"Of course I did," Carolina responded, setting her book down on her side table and grabbing her wand. She made her way to the doorway, not interested in taking part in the vapid discussion that was only too exemplary of her roommates.

"And now Warrington AND Montague are on team? They could become quite fit with a bit of quidditch training," Delia giggled, covering her mouth with her fingers.

"Not as fit as Bole or Derrick or even your brother. Sorry, Carolina," Abigail said, before blowing a lime green bubble of her father's trademarked bubblegum. Carolina cringed.

"Right, I'm heading to dinner. See you later," she said as she quickly opened the door to leave, glad to be rid of them.

"Even our seeker, Malfoy, he's young but he could be quite fit in a few years," Carolina could hear Delia giggle again. She rolled her eyes. Abigail and Delia were rather unexceptional witches in her opinion. As she descended the staircase, she saw Adrian waiting for her and felt immense gratitude that sorting hat had placed at least one decent student in Slytherin with her.

Dinner was an uneventful affair. Adrian sulked the entire time, and while Carolina tried to act understanding, she was rather annoyed that her dinner partner was in such a foul mood.

She looked around her, seeking an attentive conversationalist, but scowled after noting the lack of inspired speakers in the Slytherin house.

Across from her sat Morgana LeFabre, who was positively dull. Like Carolina, she was quite hardworking when it came to her studies, which made her a valuable study partner, but Carolina would rather talk to the Bloody Baron than put up with Morgana's monosyllabic responses.

A few seats down, Abigail and Delia were cackling maniacally at a joke that either Derrick or Bole must have just made. The two seventh years were quite adept at quidditch, probably the strongest players on the team, but were rather moronic. Next to them was seated Miles Bletchley. He was the Slytherin keeper and quite good friends with Adrian, although from the look of it, Adrian seemed to be ignoring his former teammates rather ardently, and was instead focusing his energies on mashing the peas in his shepherd's pie with a spoon. Carolina had attempted for years to be friends with Miles; after all, if her closest friend adored him so much, why shouldn't she? Yet Miles had proven to be, in Carolina's opinion, a humongous prat. He often interrupted her and acted as if he knew better than she, and would make snide and objectifying remarks about other girls. And recently, he had taken up the habit of staring at her chest whenever they were in close contact—which was unfortunately frequent, as they were both prefects this year, a fact that made Carolina more spiteful than self conscious.

She positively despised how Adrian wouldn't even attempt to curb the pigheadedness of his friend, even in Carolina's presence, and so she had developed a particular dislike for Bletchley, even if her brother claimed he was the best keeper in Hogwarts. A statement, she believed to be a total falsehood: obviously, to the unbiased eye, the best keeper in Hogwarts was Wood on the Gryffindor team, however she knew better than to offer this opinion up around current company.

She looked down at her own plate—she had forgone the pie and had eaten a healthy serving of blood sausage and artichoke—to find it empty.

"Adrian," she started, "don't you feel your peas have taken enough abuse?"

"I'm pretending that they're your brother, "he grunted back.

"Fair enough. Well, in that case, I'm heading to the library to finish Binns's essay and then I have prefect rounds, so I'll see you tomorrow."

"Binns gave us an essay?" Adrian looked up worriedly as Carolina got to her feet.

"Just for extra credit," Carolina responded.

Adrian let out a sigh of relief and returned to smashing his peas. "Good, see you later."

The assigned essay wasn't a long one, a mere foot of parchment, and Carolina found that that her words flowed relatively easily that evening, so much so that she quickly finished the first foot and decided that, while she had properly answered the questions about Goblin law that Binns had laid out, she believed that the essay would benefit from a final comparison to the equivalent wizarding laws.

Some time later, she smiled happily down at her foot and a half of parchment, cast a quick drying spell to make sure the ink didn't smudge and rolled it up, before checking her watch for the time.

"Bollocks," she breathed out as silently as she could. It was three minutes to nine, and she was supposed to meet Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater, along with the other prefects to receive their assigned corridors at nine o'clock. She quickly shoved her ink, quill and essay into her bag and took off at a run; the meeting place was on the other side of the castle.

Thankfully, the corridors were near deserted, as it was almost curfew and most students had already returned to their common rooms, otherwise she would have most certainly bulldozed a few over in her hurry to get there.

She arrived out of breath to a very stern looking Head Boy and Head Girl.

"Flint," Percy said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"You're late," Penelope said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, I was in the library," Carolina panted, out of breath from her desperate sprint, "lost track of time."

"Well, see to it that it doesn't happen again," Penelope scolded, before adding, "you're to take the dungeons tonight.

"Right, thank you," Carolina said before turning around and heading towards the staircases at the end of the hall. She could have predicted that. They almost always gave the Slytherins the dungeons, perhaps because they thought that she could control her housemates better than a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor could. She scowled, annoyed that she never got other sections of the castle, although had to admit that their reasoning wasn't so flawed. At least Bletchley wouldn't be here to gawk at her tonight. He seemed to have been assigned somewhere else.

It was ten minutes to ten, Carolina noted as she checked her watch—only another ten minutes before she could end her patrol. She yawned. She had ran into no one for the past 50 minutes. Surely she could head back to the common room a bit early. She started walking back the way she came, but stopped suddenly.

Thud! She looked around. There was nobody in the hall with her. Thud! Again, she heard it, but this time it was followed by a stifled yelp and low laughter. Thud! She looked up, determining that it must be coming from the corridor above her.

She abruptly took off towards the staircase and hurried up the stairs. Another thud sounded, this time much clearer.

Carolina rounded the corner of the stairwell and raised her wand, before inwardly groaning. There, ahead of her was her older brother, cackling to himself as he levitated various books and the dropped them onto a cowering first year. Occasionally, the books missed the first year, and hit the floor, resulting in the thuds she had heard from below.

She stepped forward, her chin up, and into the light of the sconce.

"It's passed curfew, you should be back in the common room."

Her brother turned to look at her briefly, before resuming his activities. "Aw, Carolina, I'm just having a laugh is all."

"Marcus, stop it, this instant," she hissed at him, stepping closer

"Or what? You'll give me detention? You can't do that, I'm your brother."

Thud! Another book fell right next to the first year, who covered his head with his hands and curled up on the floor, muttering a nasal and watery "please stop..." But Marcus only raised his wand again, a book levitating with it.

"Actually, I can." Carolina growled. "Now stop! Petrificus totalus!" She swished her wand at him and Marcus instantaneously became stiff as a board; his wand dropped out of his hand and he fell backwards, landing with another thump. She walked closer to the pair.

"Right," she said to the first year, who now that she got closer, she could see was crying. "You'd better get back to your common room, you should know better than to be exploring the dungeons after curfew."

"I got lost," he sniffled, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his cloak.

"Unfortunately, I will have to take five points from Hufflepuff," she said, trying her best to sound soothing. "One floor up and then a left," she added as the small boy in front of her got to his feet.

The boy scampered off as Carolina turned to her brother. "Now Marcus, you really should know better than to pick on someone less than half your size." She looked down. Her spell had held, but his face was contorted in rage. "I'm going to have to take five points away from Slytherin as well, seeing as you're out past curfew, and it would only be fair. And, let's see..." she trailed off as she bent down to pick up his wand, "I believe one detention is in order, for bullying another student and defying a prefect." She smiled down at him. "Now, I'll take off this hex, but you mustn't do anything rash," she added, before mumbling the counter curse.

Marcus got to his feet and snatched his wand out of her outstretched hand. "You're a bloody disgrace, you know that?" He said, before turning his back on her and strutting away towards the common room.

Carolina sighed and leaned against the wall, desiring to put a little distance between her and her older brother, before returning to the common room. Knowing him, this wouldn't be the last she would hear about this. If Marcus was good at anything, he was good at snitching, and she knew that in a few days time, she would be on the receiving end of a very irate letter.

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the cold wall against her back, before straightening up and following in Marcus's footsteps.

Just as Carolina rounded the corner, disappearing down the steps to the common room, a head covered in messy red hair poked out from behind a particularly gruesome tapestry of a knight being run through with the horn of a unicorn.

"Coast is clear," the redhead said, before scrambling out and stretching.

"Did you hear that?" Another redhead poked his head out from behind the tapestry, addressing his twin. "Sounded like Flint gave her own brother detention."

"Sounded like he deserved it," grinned the first twin.

"When has he not deserved it?" Shot back the second twin.

"You're right," the first twin grinned again, "He deserves it for merely existing!"

"Right you are! Now, I'm rather peckish; fancy a kip over to the kitchens?" The second twin agreed, before they both stealthily headed off in same direction to which the young Hufflepuff had recently escaped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

"I can't believe she gave detention to her own brother!" Carolina slowly opened her eyes, awakened by the incessant chatter coming from Abigail and Delia.

"And taking points away from her own house?" She stretched, her arms and legs stiff from sleep.

"What kind of prefect does that? Where's her Slytherin loyalty?" She swung her legs to the side of her four-poster bed.

"Morning, ladies," she drawled, keeping her head held high as she walked into the bathroom.

Delia nodded a slight shake of her head, while Abigail merely pursed her lips in response.

Carolina shut the door behind her and sighed. Two days later and her brother had already started telling his friends about their run-in. She turned on the shower and stripped off her pajamas as the bathroom began to fill with steam.

Slytherin loyalty? She scoffed. She wasn't a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. The whole idea was oxymoronic. What did a Slytherin have to be loyal to except to their self?

She stepped into the shower, squirted shampoo into her hand, and ran her fingers through her thick dark hair, pulling the tangles out. And why should she treat her brother with any bias? She was merely fulfilling her duty as prefect, a duty which had been entrusted to her by her headmaster and head of house, whose opinions she rightly regarded much higher than those of her classmates.

She picked up the bar of soap and began lathering up her body. Obviously, her classmates' priorities were skewed. In her five years at Hogwarts, she had been disappointed with her house. They were supposed to be ambitious, cunning and sly, yet her own roommates couldn't even understand Carolina's ambition to fulfill her duty as prefect, and eventually attain status as Head Girl.

She turned off the faucet to the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around her body. Dumbledore would never make her Head Girl if she showed any bias towards her friends or family. No... to be Head Girl, she would need to be fair and impartial.

Carolina wiped off the fogged up mirror to look at her reflection. She was lucky. Unlike her brother, her face was free of blemishes and her teeth quite a bit straighter, but she shared his strong eyebrows, thick lips, and sporadic freckles.

Her hair was still tangled so she grabbed her wand, pointed it at her scalp, and gave it a flick. Her hair instantly became sleek, with a slight shine to it. She smiled, before turning to strut back out into the dormitory.

She was met with silence, and could only assume that Abigail and Delia had stopped gossiping about her the moment the door had opened. She refused to acknowledge them, slipped into her uniform and robes, grabbed her book bag and headed to breakfast.

 _"Dear Carolina,_

 _I am already disappointed in your behavior. From your brother's letter, it sounds as if you are prioritizing your power trip over his academic career. Had I known being a prefect would affect you so, I would have written to Dumbledore myself and beseeched him to find another candidate. I still have half a mind to do that, mind you, if your behavior does not improve. I wrote you just last week, asking for you to focus on improving your brother's studying habits and you spurn me like this? A detention certainly will not do. He tells me that he has an essay for transfiguration due the day after his detention and won't have time to write the essay. It seems only fair to me that you take on his essay seeing as you are the cause of this mess._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Your Mother"_

Carolina ripped the letter in half after finishing it. How dare her mother tell her to write Marcus's essay for him. She was in her fifth year—her O.W.L. year, at that-—and wouldn't know the subject matter for Marcus's essay, let alone have the time to do it!

She turned in her seat and shot a glare at Marcus who was leaning inwards to the long table conspiringly with his quidditch team.

Suddenly having lost her appetite after her mother's daft proposal, she shot up from the table, not bothering to respond to Adrian's queries as to where she was going and sulked out of the hall towards the first class of the day, potions.

When she arrived, she groaned inwardly. She had forgotten about their assigned seats, but there, in the chair next to hers sat one of the lanky, red headed Weasley twins. This day could not possibly get worse.

She shuffled over to her seat, wondering mildly what he was doing here so early, but refused on principle to ask him. Instead, she took out the book she had most recently checked out from the library, the Homelife and Social Habits of Britain's Muggles, opened it to the first page, and started tensely reading.

"I heard you gave your brother a detention."

"Excuse me?" Carolina's eyes snapped up and she turned her head sharply to glare at the Gryffindor who had interrupted her reading, but upon doing so, found it a difficult task to complete. The redhead was giving her an uncertain, yet charming, smile and Carolina felt the malice lose itself within her.

"You're Flint's sister, right? You gave him a detention for bullying a first year, yeah?"

"I did..." she trailed off, narrowing her eyes. So what if she did? What was it to him?

"That's pretty bad-ass," he said with a shrug, before turning back to look lazily up at the front of the class.

Carolina looked around; students were trickling in, the classroom was nearly half full now.

"I have an obligation," she said. "As a prefect. It's my duty towards the school."

"Yeah, well if you forget the 'prefect' part, it's still pretty bad-ass." He winked at her.

"Well, I don't—" Carolina started with a huff before a voice boomed out, interrupting her:

"Wands away and cauldrons lit!" Snape snarled, strutting to the front of the classroom. Carolina quickly lit her cauldron, before stowing her wand in her pocket and clasping her hands in front of her.

"Now, if you'll turn your textbooks to page 13, you will find a list of ingredients for brewing the drought of peace. I expect a full vial by the end of class. You may begin," Snape said, his eyes wandering across the students in front of him.

As always, Carolina was the first to the supply cupboard and she quickly filled her arms with the many ingredients. By the time the Weasley twin returned to their desk, she had already progressed to step three and was calmly chopping her gurdyroot.

Without a word to her, he started to prepare his ingredients as well. Carolina shot a few glances around the classroom to ensure no one was watching her, before leaning in and whispering so as not to be overheard, "I really don't think it's any of your business whether a prefect gives out a detention or not, unless it's directed at you, Weasley."

"Merlin, Flint, can't you take a compliment?" he rolled his eyes, not bothering to look at her.

"I can, but this particular event has been causing a lot of turmoil in my life, and I don't think I asked for your opinion on it," she snarled back, thinking of her mother's letter, Marcus's essay and the ruthless looks and snide comments her classmates had been giving her since they found out.

The Weasley paused and turned to look at her. "If it caused you so much turmoil, why'd you even bother?" he asked, obviously exasperated.

"Professor Dumbledore entrusts the power to enforce the rules to a select few students and it is a privilege to be one of them. It was my duty to—"

"To give him a detention, I know, I know, but it wasn't your duty to use the full body bind curse on him, now was it?" He grinned mischievously at her.

"How do you know about that?" Carolina glared at him. Marcus hadn't let that little fact slip, probably wary of how his reputation would fare when his classmates found out he had been bested by his little sister.

The redhead shrugged and turned back to his potion. Carolina stared at him for a moment longer, before following suit. She gave her potion a good three stirs before lowering the heat for it to simmer for five minutes.

She looked back over at the boy next to her. "I'll have you know, the prefect system is one of the most important apparatuses at Hogwarts and isn't something to be taken lightly."

"You sound like my brother." Carolina noticed his nostrils flaring. Perhaps she had gotten on his nerves.

"Percy?" She questioned. Thinking back, her last sentence did seem like something the Head Boy would say.

"That's the one. Always going on about how _important_ the prefects are for keeping order at Hogwarts."

"Well, they are." She said in a matter of fact tone.

"Prefects are just watchdogs for lazy professors."

"That's completely untrue! And what would you know about it? You're weren't made prefect!" Carolina responded indignantly.

"Oh, boohoo."

"The prefects are a pillar of Hogwarts—"

"Save it for someone who hasn't heard the whole speech before," the boy rolled his eyes as he stirred his potion.

"Which one are you?"

"What?" He looked at her, his eyebrows knit.

"Fred or George? Which one?" She asked again.

"Fred," he said, confusion still in his eyes.

"Well, Fred, you're opinion is wrong."

"An opinion can't be wrong!" Fred was now glaring at her. "I retract my previous compliment. You aren't bad-ass, you're barmy."

"It can be wrong," Carolina replied haughtily. "Just because you believe something, doesn't make it true."

"If you're so set on being right, then prove it!"

"I will!" Carolina snarled back at him, spooning her potion into her vial, bottling it, before pushing her chair in and marching up to Professor Snape's desk, the first one finished yet again.

Carolina's hand flew across her parchment, the quill scratching furiously. She wanted to finish this transfiguration essay so that she could begin researching the history of the prefect at Hogwarts and other schools so that she could prove Fred wrong.

Charged by her anger, she quickly and messily signed her name at the top of the essay and rolled it up. Her mother had often said that she was too competitive for a lady, but it was hard not to be competitive when your parents absolutely coddled your sibling and treated you with something between mild affection and indifference. She had always felt the need to be smarter than Marcus, to be a better witch than him, and she didn't perceive this as a flaw, even if it meant she was a tad competitive.

She stood up from her seat and walked over to the History section, her most perused row of shelves, and immediately found "Hogwarts, A History" by Bathilda Bagshot. She strutted back over to her study desk, plopped down, and opened the index, searching for the word "prefect." Perfect, she thought; the word appeared over two hundred times in the book, and she quickly jotted down all of the page numbers before beginning her research.

"Bloody hell, what is that?" Fred questioned, startled as Carolina dropped what looked to be a bound fifty-page copy of her notes.

"A memo on every time a prefect was useful to the greater community of Hogwarts in the past 700 years."

"And you expect me to read that?" Fred scoffed, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, giving away his amusement as he continued to glare at Carolina.

"Well, if you'd like to refute my argument that the prefects are in fact beneficial to Hogwarts as an educational institution and as a community, I'd suggest doing so."

"It must be nearly fifty pages—"

"Silence!" Professor Snape bellowed as he stomped into the classroom, obviously in a foul mood.

Fred opened his mouth as if to continue his sentence, but Carolina shot him a pointed look, before picking up her quill and facing forwards, ready to take notes.

As it turned out, she need not have pulled the quill out, as Snape was lecturing on the properties of veritaserum, a potion that Carolina had successfully brewed in her spare time over the summer holidays. She chanced a spare look over at Fred, and found herself surprised; he was chewing on his quill, his brow furrowed, turning through the pages of her research.

The lecture seemed to drag on, as Professor Snape seemed particularly sullen, and she was relieved when he finally dismissed them with another essay due the following week on veritaserum.

She noticed that Fred had slid her notes back towards her on the desk. She looked up at him, just as he was standing up, pulling his book bag over his shoulder.

"Well?" She asked, peering up at his tall frame, "Did I convince you?"

"The only thing you convinced me of is that prefects are self-righteous, self-important know it alls," he grinned down at her.

"But obviously you didn't read the part where—"

"Don't worry," he interrupted her, leaning down so that his face was right in front of hers and in Carolina's opinion, uncomfortably close—so close that she could smell the pumpkin juice on his breath and see every freckle on his pale face. "I still like you anyways," he finished, before winking, straightening up and walking away.

Carolina felt herself shiver, and let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding before she grimaced and looked around. Thankfully, none of her classmates seemed to have noticed the interaction. She packed up her bag and scampered out of the dungeon classroom, grateful that she wouldn't be gossiped about for hexing her brother AND fraternizing with a Weasley.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

"What about this one?" Carolina glanced up from her book on antiquated 12th century charms to see Abigail prancing out of their bathroom, in yet another summer dress, blowing a bubblegum bubble as she waited for Carolina's response. It must have been her fifth she had tried on, and Carolina was growing bored of playing Abigail and Delia's costume critic.

"It's nice, but you might get a little cold," Carolina told her roommate honestly. Abigail was very pretty, and in Carolina's opinion, while she was quite dim-witted, she would probably look nice in any of the outfits she owned—otherwise, why had she bought them in the first place?

"That's the point, stupid!" Abigail cackled. "If I'm cold, Lucian will give me his cloak!"

"Right," Carolina responded, looking back down at her book and trying to focus.

"Ooh, that looks great on you!" Delia joined in, "But you might want to wear a push-up bra; give him a bit of a show, you know?"

"Merlin. Obviously!" Abigail ran back into the bathroom.

"Carolina, do you think Peregrine will like my eyeshadow?" Delia queried, sitting down on Carolina's bed.

Carolina looked up from her book again. Delia's eyeshadow was the same color green as their Slytherin insignias and made her eyes seem rather sickly, but Carolina had learned long ago that it was much easier not to agitate her roommates.

"I think he'll like the Slytherin spirit," Carolina said, once again looking back down at her book.

"That's why I chose the color," Delia declared delightedly. "Did you get asked by anyone?"

Carolina suspected that Delia already knew the answer to her own question but just wanted to belittle her. In truth, Carolina had felt belittled enough over the past week after hearing the incessant chatter from her two roommates about their oncoming Hogsmeade dates with the Slytherin beaters, Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole.

"Nope," Carolina said, hoping that Delia would drop the subject. It's not that she had desperately wanted to go with anyone to Hogsmeade—there were awfully slim pickings in the Slytherin house—but it would have been nice to have been asked.

"That's too bad," Delia said, pretending to look sad although Carolina knew that she was secretly enjoying the conversation. "Maybe if you tried to look pretty a bit more often, then you could be going with someone too!"

Abigail came out of the bathroom. "We could help you with that!" She said as she tugged on the front of her dress to show more cleavage.

"Unlike Morgana, you aren't a total lost cause," Delia snickered as Carolina rolled her eyes.

"Thanks," she said dryly as she stood up from her bed and stretched. "Well, I'm off—you two had better hurry up, it's nearly 1. Isn't that when you said you'd meet them?"

"Oh Merlin! You're right!" Abigail squealed, "Where are my boots?"

Carolina merely shrugged as she walked out of the dormitory and headed down the staircase to the Slytherin Common Room. The room was nearly empty, as only a few second and first years loitered around the couches, the rest of the upperclassmen enjoying their first Hogsmeade weekend.

Carolina had been planning to go as well, until she heard that Adrian had asked Daphne Greengrass, a pretty girl two years below them in Slytherin to go with him. For the past two years, Carolina had always gone with Adrian (and sometimes Miles) and had initially felt a little betrayed. Ultimately however, she decided she would make better use of her time with a near empty castle to practice her spell work and had told Adrian to enjoy his visit and to bring her back something from Honeyduke's.

Yet, as she walked the empty corridors of Hogwarts in search a spacious, unused classroom, she couldn't help but still feel a little lonely. Her brother would never have wanted to go with her, as he had his own popularity to maintain in mind, and Morgana was nowhere to be found.

As her mind wandered, she began to imagine herself on a date; walking along the old cobblestone street of Hogsmeade hand-in-hand with someone, the trees decorated by their bright fall colors, sitting inside the Three Broomsticks, a boy's arm slung over her shoulders, the rich taste of butterbeer, kissing at the overlook of the Shrieking Shack. And before her rational side could stop her, she saw a brief image flash through her mind of red hair, blue eyes and freckles and she instantly realized that's who she had been imagining herself with. Her cheeks became warm and she self-consciously looked around, as if anyone in proximity might be able to tell what she was thinking, before realizing how silly she was acting.

Thankfully, she quickly came to the unused classroom and propped open her book on non-verbal spells that she had checked out from the library. Technically, they wouldn't be covering non-verbals until their sixth year, but Carolina saw no reason to postpone the study of the inevitable. She had already read the chapter, so she decided to start with a simple levitation spell. She quickly transfigured one of the classroom chairs into a feather, placed it on the ground in front of her, took a step back and pointed her wand at the feather.

Swish and flick, she thought, reminding herself of the basic wand movement before focusing all of her mind's energy on channeling her magic through her wand. _Wingardium Leviosa_ , she thought, and she watched as the feather fluttered slightly above the ground, before falling back down again a second later.

She sighed. This would be harder than she first anticipated.

About two hours later, Carolina was sweating, but she had managed to levitate the desk and was now having it spin circles, all using non-verbal spellwork.

"That's really quite impressive," she heard from behind her.

She yelped as she turned around at the unexpected voice, and the desk crashed to the floor, it's legs splintering off.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Professor," she apologized, noting how Professor Lupin had flinched as the desk hit the floor. "I didn't mean for that to happen. Reparo," she said, pointing her wand at the desk again while it magically came back together again.

"Like I said, that was really quite impressive, especially for a fifth year."

"Thank you," she said proudly. It was impressive. Her own brother, three years older than her, still struggled with non-verbals.

"You look rather tired, would you like a cup of water. Or tea, perhaps?" He offered, as Carolina wiped her sweaty brow on her sleeve.

"That would be nice, thank you," she replied, smiling kindly. She had only had Professor Lupin for a month and a half, but she had already favored him over the past few Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. Lockhart had been her least favorite—far too vain for her taste, and Lupin was a wonderful change of pace. So far, they had reviewed defensive spells from the previous year, before beginning to focus on magical creatures.

Professor Lupin's classroom was just across the hall—she realized he must have heard the commotion she was causing and wandered over to investigate.

"How do you take it?" The professor asked her.

"Milk, one sugar, thank you," she replied, marveling at the kettle on his desk that seemed to have been bewitched to continuously be on the precipice of boiling.

"Here you are," he handed her the tea and she sipped it.

"Thank you," she said again. "What is it?" She asked, never having tasted that particular blend of leaves.

"A muggle variety from India, Chai," Lupin replied, sipping his as well. "I find that I actually prefer muggle tea to wizard tea."

"I read that tea is one of muggle India's largest exports" Carolina said before adding, "It's quite sweeter than I'm used to."

"Are you interested in muggle trade?" Lupin queried, sounding somewhat surprised.

"It was for class," Carolina shrugged. "But I suppose I am interested in muggle trading laws—theirs are much more complicated than ours."

"I take it you are enrolled in Muggle Studies, then?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"You must be the only Slytherin in the school taking the class, I'd imagine."

"Yes, sir, I am." She sipped her tea again.

"Full of surprises," he mused quietly to himself.

"I'm sorry?"

"You seem to be full of surprises," he repeated himself. "The non-verbal magic, Muggle Studies."

"Oh," Carolina said, followed by a pregnant pause in their conversation.

"Do you mind me asking why you chose to take it?" Lupin queried.

"Well, my parents didn't want me to—my mum even sent me a howler in third year when she found out—but I figure, even if there are irreconcilable differences between muggles and wizards, and the statute of secrecy notwithstanding... I find it prudent to understand them as much as one can. And, it's actually a much more useful elective than Divination or even Astronomy for that matter. I'd warrant we could learn a few things from them." Carolina stopped herself, blushing. It wasn't every day someone asked her about her fascination with muggles, who wouldn't demonize her for her interest, and she felt herself grow embarrassed by her rambling.

"Like international trade," Remus finished for her.

"Er, yes," she finished, quietly. She opened her mouth to say something more but was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

"Come in!" Lupin called out and Carolina turned to see who had knocked.

"Ah, Harry," Lupin said, smiling softly at the dark haired boy. "Do come in, I suppose you know Ms. Flint?"

Harry shook his head, his brow furrowed, obviously confused to find her there. Even if Potter didn't know who she was, Carolina knew him. He was always breaking rules, for no reason other than because he could, and in her opinion, that was a detestable trait. She sent him a quick glare, before turning back to Lupin. "I'd better be off, Professor. Thank you for the tea."

"My pleasure, and keep practicing," he smiled at her, the same soft, slightly muffled smile he had sent towards Harry moments earlier.

Carolina grabbed her wand and stormed past Potter, closing the door behind her.

She decided that a bit of fresh air would do her good, so she forwent heading back to the Slytherin common room, and decided to walk down to the Great Lawn to sit by the lake.

By then, friends and couples had begun to trickle back from Hogsmeade, and many were walking the long path leading up to the front doors of the school. She sat down on a particularly green patch of grass and looked out. She could see her roommates, walking hand in hand with towering boys who must have been Derrick and Bole. Abigail's plot seemed to have worked, she was now wearing a cloak and was huddled up next to one of the boys, blowing gum bubbles again. It was a wonder the gum hadn't stuck on Lucian's cheek.

Beyond them, Carolina could just make out two swathes of red hair, meandering forwards. The twins, she assumed, although she couldn't tell which one was which from how far away she was. They were flanked by two people with black hair, and a brunette. She squinted, watching them.

Suddenly, one of the redheads picked up someone else and spun them around in the air, twirling and laughing, until they both fell to a heap on the grass. Carolina squinted even harder, determined to figure out which of the twins it was—a task near impossible upon close inspection, let alone from nearly 50 yards away.

She continued to watch them until they all disappeared through the giant oak doors and waited until the sun was lower in the sky and a crisp fall chill had befallen the warm afternoon air, before deciding to head back inside.

"Oh Merlin, I shouldn't have eaten that last cauldron cake," Adrian said, leaning his head on Carolina's shoulder as they meandered back from the Great Hall to the Slytherin common room. Curfew was in a few minutes, but neither student felt that they could move any faster given the sheer volume they had inhaled earlier in the evening.

"I feel as if I'm going to burst," Carolina agreed, clutching her stomach. The Hogwarts Halloween feast had been particularly tasty this year.

"Oi! Carolina!" A voice called out behind them and hurried footsteps echoed off the stone walls. Carolina turned around. Miles Bletchley was running up to her. "There's been a break-in," he panted. "Prefects have to bring all of the students back to the great hall!"

"A break-in?" She wondered aloud.

"Sirius Black!" Miles whispered, his eyes darting around the hallway. "At least that's the name I've been hearing."

Carolina paled. A known murderer, and Azkaban escapee running around Hogwarts?! She quickly pulled her wand out of her pocket. "Adrian, go back to the Great Hall. I'll meet you there later. Let's go, Miles."

The two prefects took off, running down the hallways, to corral the younger students who had already left the feast.

A half hour later, all of the Slytherin students were accounted for and sitting on their cots in the Great Hall, as instructed by the headmaster. Carolina placed her cloak on her own cot, at the end of the line of slytherins, before slowly walking over to the headboy and headgirl.

Percy Weasley seemed especially anxious tonight, more so than his normal self, which Carolina could understand. He and Penelope were tasked with watching over the student body while the professors scoured the castle, searching for Black.

"Is there anything else I can do?" She asked them.

"Just keep the Slytherins in line," Penelope snarled at her, the stress evident on her face. Percy nodded tersely, before they both turned away, back to their hushed conversation.

Carolina sighed, she had only wanted to be helpful. She walked back to her cot and sat down, looking out over the sea of pajama-clad students in the dim lighting of the stars floating around the roof of the hall. Most were lying down, staring at the ceiling, others were whispering to their friends in hushed voices across their cots, and a few weren't even bothering to act worried.

A smile spread across her face as she watched one of the Weasley twins, two rows over from her, levitate his pillow, before sending it careening into Percy's face. Percy yelled, immediately turning red, grabbed the pillow and looked around wolfishly to find the perpetrator.

Carolina let out a small giggle, which she immediately turned into a cough when Delia and Abigail broke off their conversation to glare at her. She turned back to the Weasley twins, to find him staring at her. As soon as he caught her eye, he winked. Carolina felt her eyes grow large and her cheeks become heated again. It must have been Fred then, levitating the pillow, only he would wink at her, his brother probably didn't even know her other than Flint's sister, she thought as she rested her head on her own pillow.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Thank you all for the reviews and support so far! Keep letting me know what you think!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

The school year seemed to be passing by in a blur, and while Carolina felt much more confident in her studies than her roommates did, she still spent nearly all of her free time studying for the O.W.L.s, which her teachers reminded her would arrive sooner rather than later. It was a useless and repetitive threat however, as their assigned workloads were enough of a reminder of the impending examinations.

She had a new essay on medieval wizardry from Binns, Transfiguration homework, Ancient Runes translations, Arithmancy equations to solve, an essay on electricity for Muggle Studies, a potions essay as well, charms to practice, a bubotuber to care for, Astronomy charts to fill out, and had to practice for Defense, as she had yet to successfully banish a banshee, and that was only one week's worth of work. Not including prefect duties, of course.

She was so overworked that she barely had enough time to process the lightness she felt in her chest every time potions class rolled around and she was seated next to Fred. Perhaps under normal circumstances Carolina would have been weary of whatever it was she was feeling, but given how much else she had to think about, she pushed whatever personal thoughts she had to the back of her mind.

Which is not to say that she didn't enjoy his company. Fred had warmed up to her, for a reason she still could not understand, after their argument about prefects, and she looked forward to their light banter.

She made sure not to talk to him too much though, knowing that it would be conspicuous among her peers and that her sole purpose in the class was to learn the craft of potion-making, but every so often she found herself stifling laughter as he made a joke about an ingredient, or even sometimes, to her horror and supreme amusement, about Professor Snape.

It was a nice relief then, when the first quidditch match of the year rolled around in late November. She didn't normally enjoy quidditch all that much, preferring to only attend the Slytherin games to cheer on her brother or Adrian, but she felt so overworked from her O.W.L.s study that a Hufflepuff Gryffindor game seemed like it would be a nice vacation. At least, that's what she told herself as she walked arm in arm with Adrian down to the quidditch pitch; it wasn't because she was interested in seeing her potions partner play, not at all.

Adrian was chatting her ear off about the different players on each team. "And Diggory's a right good captain, bit of a conceited prat, but still a good captain."

Carolina giggled at Adrian's impassioned analysis.

He continued: "While Wood is probably a better keeper than Fleet, no… he definitely is, Fleet's a hopeless sack of shite, the Hufflepuff chasers could give the Gryffindors a run for their money. And Diggory will definitely be a good match for Potter."

"What about the beaters?" Carolina queried.

"No match. The Weasleys, while normally total idiots, have one talent and that is swinging their beaters bats. Hufflepuff will be lucky if no one ends up in the hospital wing."

Carolina shot Adrian a look. "They aren't _total_ idiots."

"What're you defending them for? Didn't they charm a chicken to follow you around school in third year?" Adrian accused.

"I think it's going to rain," Carolina replied, deftly changing the subject. "I just felt a raindrop."

"Merlin, you're right, look at those storm clouds."

Carolina looked up. Above them, thick, dark, nebulous clouds were swirling together. Suddenly she heard the roar of thunder. "Let's get going," she pulled Adrian's arm, as they scurried towards the stands for cover.

By the time they reached the top of the Slytherin section, a full on thunderstorm was crashing overhead and rain was pelting down like bullets. Carolina quickly cast an umbrella charm over her and Adrian, but that did nothing to protect from the winds that were roaring through the stands.

"How are they able to stay on their brooms?" Carolina yelled at Adrian over the screams of the crowds and rushing of the wind and rain.

"Not easily!" He yelled back. "I can barely see who's who; no idea how anyone could find a snitch in these conditions!"

"And Gryffindor scores again! A nice shot by chaser Alicia Spinnet and Hufflepuff are now down by 20!" The commentator's voice rang out across pitch.

Carolina cast her eyes up to the pitch. She had watched Marcus play enough times (and listened to his endless discussions with her father about quidditch) that she was quite familiar with the game, enough so that she could name some of the flying formations and attack maneuvers, however she could barely make out the individual players in the downpour. Her eyes bounced around from red jersey to red jersey, hoping to find the familiar tuft of red hair.

Finally, she found him just as a bludger came hurtling at his head. "And a nice deflection by Fred! Or is that George? I can't tell them apart on a clear day, let alone during a rainstorm. Professor, is it even safe for them to be playing in these conditions?" The commentator, who Carolina now recognized to be a friend of the Weasley twins, asked Professor McGonagall, voicing the concerns of the entire student body, just as a flash of lightning struck through the sky.

Whatever McGonagall may have remarked was lost as another round of thunderclaps echoed across the castle grounds.

The awful conditions seemed to only fuel the Gryffindor team who were now up by 50 points, but looking significantly worse for wear.

"And I think Potter's seen something!" the commentator's voice boomed out. "He definitely has seen the snitch and Diggory is off, hot on his trails!"

Carolina trained her eyes on the two seekers, who were speeding high up and away from the pitch, nearly at a vertical ascent, until they disappeared from sight behind a storm cloud. Diggory quickly emerged, looking put-off by the cloud, and began circling below it, his head swiveling in every direction, however Potter stayed submerged somewhere up there.

There was a moment of silence as an eerie hush fell over the crowds, and Carolina felt a significant coldness rip through her body, colder than anything the bad weather could produce. In an instant, she knew what it was. Just then, the silence was broken by a harsh clap of thunder and something fell from the cloud, picking up speed as it went.

Carolina let out a scream as she realized it wasn't something, but rather someone, falling to their death. The whole crowd erupted into yells and horrified screams as they too realized that it was Harry Potter, falling at a rapid speed towards the ever nearing ground.

* * *

For the following few days, the dementor attack at the quidditch game was all anybody seemed to be talking about at Hogwarts. Apparently, from what Carolina had heard, Dumbledore had been livid that the dementors had entered Hogwarts grounds and he had immediately flown off to London to meet with Fudge. Of course there had been other rumors, particularly from the Gryffindor house, that claimed that the dementors had been a set up for them to lose the game. People seemed to even think that the Slytherin team, after cancelling their match to Gryffindor on account of Malfoy's injured arm, were behind the dementors. Carolina didn't put the sentiment past her brother or his teammates, but knew the rumors to be false. Her brother was too much of a pansy to approach a dementor. Besides, Diggory had already offered Wood a fair rematch, to which the Gryffindor captain had declined.

The rumors subsided however, as the next Hogsmeade visit was posted for the last weekend before the fall term ended. Soon, the castle was abuzz with gossip about who was taking who to the little wizarding village. Once again, Abigail and Delia had dates with Derrick and Bole, a fact that Carolina had begun to rue, as it was now all the two girls chattered about. She had almost burst out in anger last night as they stayed up until nearly one in the morning picking out outfits for their dates, but Carolina had instead just closed her curtains and cast an impenetrable charm so that all the noise would be blocked out.

The day of, Carolina found herself skipping jovially up the path to Hogsmeade with Adrian, who had forgone a second date with the younger student, Daphne Greengrass.

"Truthfully, she asked me," he told Carolina as the snow crunched underfoot. "And she looked so innocent, I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but there was no way I would be wasting another Hogsmeade trip in Madam Puddifoots."

"It's for the best, what could you possibly have in common with a third year?" Carolina cackled, glad that her friend was back.

"She wasn't so bad," Adrian said thoughtfully. "A bit shy, but not the worst for conversation. Bad taste in date venue, mind you…" he trailed off as Carolina laughed again.

"I'll meet you in the three Broomsticks, I just want to run up to Ancient Scrolls and Tomes for a minute," Carolina said as they entered the village.

"Want me to come with?" Adrian asked, a reluctant look on his face.

Carolina smiled. "It's alright, I know how you feel about spending any time around books on your days off. I'll catch up with you in five. Why don't you grab us a booth?"

They parted ways as Adrian turned into the Three Broomsticks and Carolina headed a block up to the bookstore. She loved Ancient Scrolls and Tomes perhaps more than Flourish and Blotts, as it had a more obscure selection to choose from. Carolina perused for a few minutes, wandering the overburdened bookshelves that seemed to be sagging from the weight of the ancient texts piled to the ceiling. Finally, after weighing her options, Carolina decided to purchase a rather expensive book about the Salem witch trials in early American wizarding history. The book had particularly gruesome drawings and paintings inside, but that was hardly a deterrent for the young woman, as it was hard to come by American history books in the Hogwarts Library. She paid the old hag who worked the front desk, and headed out the door back into the cold wintery sunshine.

As she walked back down the street, she couldn't help but be drawn over by the bright display window at Zonko's joke shop. She paused, looking in.

"See anything you like?" A familiar voice said behind her. She spun around.

She gave him a small smile, "over 50% of their products are banned within Hogwarts grounds, you know."

"I didn't know that," Fred Weasley responded. "But it seems just like the type of thing you would know, Madam Prefect."

Carolina rolled her eyes. "Don't call me that."

"Are you going to take points away if I continue to do so?"

Carolina sighed, turning back to the display window. "No, name-calling unless it is directed bigotry is not a valid excuse for punishment according to the Hogwarts Prefect Codebook," she replied.

"There's a Prefect Codebook?" Fred grinned wolfishly, an idea obviously forming in his head. "Percy never mentioned that!"

"Well we're not supposed to share the contents with the general public."

"And yet you just did," Fred winked at her and Carolina blushed.

"It was unintentional, believe me." Carolina turned away from the window. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to the three broomsticks."

"Great! I'm meeting George and Lee there; I'll walk you." Carolina started at his enthusiasm, before looking around suspiciously. She could not be seen fraternizing with a Weasley. A few paces away were a cluster of goblins and then beyond them, a group of Ravenclaws. No Slytherins in sight. She sighed, giving in.

"Fine, let's go."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," Fred countered.

They walked down the snow covered cobblestone street, a brief silence filling the air as Carolina wondered why in the world he was talking to her, let alone walking her to the pub. "I'm sorry about the quidditch match," she said eventually, unable to think of anything else to say to him.

"Yeah well, there's still hope. Hufflepuff in all likeliness will get smashed by Ravenclaw and Slytherin," he sighed dejectedly.

"I think it was terribly unfair. The match shouldn't even be considered legitimate, it was won on account of external interference, after all," Carolina said haughtily.

Fred chuckled, and smiled down at her as they reached the Three Broomsticks and stood outside the door. "You have a weird way of speaking, you know? You always sound like a Professor."

"Is that a good thing?" Carolina questioned, suddenly self conscious.

"Sure, if you want." Fred winked at her again, before turning the doorknob. "See you later, Madam Prefect!" He called out, as he headed into the busy pub, not bothering to hold the door open for Carolina. She glared at the door as it swung shut.

She decided to take a moment to compose herself before heading in. She reached up to dust off her hat, but her hand froze in mid-air. About 20 paces away stood her brother and another Slytherin quidditch teammate. She caught her brother's eyes, which were glinting a shade of furious, as he glared at her. It took all of her might to break eye contact and head into the crowded pub to find Adrian.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Two days into the winter holidays, Carolina started to regret returning home. Predictably, the only topics for discussion at mealtimes had been the likelihood of Slytherin winning the House cup and her parents' company. Marcus himself seemed to be strictly ignoring her presence, and the most intimacy she had received from her parents was a nod of approval when she recited her grades.

Carolina had taken to sleeping in (an indulgence she hardly ever partook in at Hogwarts), as it limited the time she was forced to hear her mother coo over Marcus's captaincy, which seemed to be a near hourly occurrence as her mother had taken the week off work. Her parents owned a dragon hide leather goods manufacturer and provider and so when Carolina woke up, again quite later than normal, on Christmas Day, she had no doubt in her mind as to what she would be receiving as a gift from her family.

She took a lingering shower and got dressed, dreading the family supper that was to come later in the afternoon, before heading downstairs around noon to open her gifts.

She had received five; a dragon leather skirt from her parents—a rather tasteful green one at that, it fit tightly around her hips and fell to just below her mid thigh (much better than last year's dragon hide hat), a hex resistant lip stain from Delia and Abigail (Carolina always rued how they deemed it acceptable to go in on one gift together for her, yet she had to buy them each something separately), a new set of extra-strength quills and multicolored ink from Adrian, a dragon hide bound journal from her brother (which she suspected was actually from her mother, and a small, unmarked, brown paper parcel which she had yet to open.

She turned it over in her hands, searching for a clue as to who it could be from and trying to think if there was someone she had missed getting a present for. Perhaps Morgana? But they never exchanged gifts. Miles? Exceptionally unlikely. Then, a thought dawned on her that turned her cheeks a bright magenta. She looked around her. Luckily, as was normally the case, no one was really paying attention. Her mother was bewitching plates and silverware to set themselves on the table, her father was reading the daily prophet, and Marcus had excused himself from the sitting room to play with his new quaffle.

Her mind quickly flashed to her potions partner. He wouldn't have gotten her anything for Christmas, would he? Carolina toyed with the small package. It was light, weighing no more than a small orange. She pulled one of the ends of the twine bow and it slowly unraveled itself in her hands. She took a breath in, her eyes darting around once more before she unfolded the brown paper to reveal a... chocolate frog box? She felt mildly disappointed. This could be from anyone.

She opened the box and grabbed the frog before it could hop away, popping it into her mouth. She casually turned the card over to see who would be on the back, before gasping in surprise. She quickly drew a hand up to her mouth as the frog, in a sudden burst of energy to be free, tried to struggle out of her lips. She pushed it back in and chomped down hard, cutting it in half.

Carolina slowly chewed the chocolate and stared down at an eerily accurate portrait of herself in her Slytherin robes, looking bored and haughty and occasionally yawning on the back of the card. Beneath her picture read the lines "CAROLINA FLINT. SLYTHERIN. EXPERT ON ALL THINGS PREFECT."

She felt her lips burst into a smile as she swallowed the rest of the frog.

"What's that you've got there?" Her mother called, looking over from the dining room.

"Chocolate frog from a friend," Carolina responded, holding up the front side of the box, where the frog had been.

"Oh, dear, try not to eat too many sweets; we will be having dessert later," her mother said airily and Carolina's smile immediately fell into a scowl.

"Right!" Carolina called back, before getting up off the couch, walking over to her father and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for the skirt, father," she said. "I'm going to go put away my presents, now."

"Yes, yes, very good," he said back, without lifting his gaze from the paper.

Carolina walked back upstairs to her room and fell down onto her four-poster bed. She let her other presents drop next to her, but held the chocolate frog card, turning it over in her hands to look at herself. It must have taken some very creative magic to bewitch her likeness onto an existing card. She smiled again.

Dinner started off as a subdued affair. Her parents mostly talked business, discussing the rising price of dragon hide and ministry regulations on imports. Carolina had long suspected her father to have dabbled in black market dealings in order to circumvent the regulations that a bout of animal and beast equality protests in recent years had given birth to.

They finished the main meal and Carolina's mother brought out a Christmas pudding, serving them all. When it came time for her piece, her mother gave her a slice about half the size of Marcus's.

"Mother, might I have some more?" Carolina asked, trying to sound pleasant.

"Hm, no, well, I think you're set for now, sweetheart," her mother replied coolly, serving herself a piece the same size as Carolina's.

"Marcus's is twice the size of mine," Carolina complained.

"Well, Marcus went flying today while you had a chocolate frog," her mother responded, earning a smirk from Marcus.

"But it's Christmas! I hardly eat sweets all the time," Carolina continued.

"Fine, fine, if you stop your whining! I'm just trying to help; you have such a nice figure it would be a shame to spoil it," her mother said, finally serving Carolina the rest of her piece of pudding. "Speaking of," she continued, "have you been on many dates this year? I remember, it must have been my fifth year when your father first asked me out to Hogsmeade." Her mother smiled lovingly at her father, who smiled back, before shoving another bite of pudding in his mouth.

"Nope. Where did he take you?" Carolina said, hoping her mother would fall for the bait and talk about herself instead of questioning Carolina on her lack of a dating life.

"None whatsoever? Why that can't be! You must be one of the most eligible girls of your year." Her mother looked shocked and Carolina cringed, her ruse not working.

"There are no boys I like," Carolina shrugged.

"Have Abigail and Delia gotten dates?" Her mother questioned, without listening to her. "They're both half-blooded you know. Marcus what about your friends? Would any of them want to date Carolina?"

Marcus sneered. "She's not so well-liked among my friends. Besides, I don't think she needs my help."

Carolina's head shot up at this, her eyes widening, unsure where Marcus could be going.

"Oh? Go on," her father said, finally joining the conversation.

"I saw her with a boy on the last Hogsmeade trip," Marcus grinned, staring directly at her, malice in his eyes. Carolina's fingers twitched, wishing her wand was in her hand instead of upstairs on her bedside table, and that she wouldn't get in trouble for practicing magic outside of Hogwarts. She glared right back at her brother, trying desperately to communicate with him to stop where she knew he was going.

"Who? Carolina, you shouldn't have lied to us!" Her mother was becoming very aggressively enthusiastic.

"One of the Weasley twins," Marcus smirked, "I can never tell them apart. Which one was it, Carolina?"

Then, a few things happened at once. "A WEASLEY?!" Her father boomed out, just as Marcus's pumpkin juice glass shattered, spilling its contents onto his lap.

"Don't be daft, Marcus," Carolina drawled, enjoying watching him frantically trying to wipe up the juice before it stained his pants, and pleased with her impromptu wandless magic. "We weren't on a date," she said turning to her father. "He's my partner in potions, he merely stopped to ask a question about the assignment over the holidays."

"That's not what it looked like to me," Marcus spat back viciously.

"Your potions partner?" Her mother asked, suspiciously.

"It was assigned; I couldn't help it, and Marcus don't project your wishful longings for a dating life onto mine, it's unbecoming," she gave him a sickly sweet smile, knowing she had won the argument.

"Why you bint—" Marcus started.

"Marcus!" Her father boomed out, interrupting him. "That's quite enough."

"Are you having a hard time finding a date, darling?" Their mother simpered, patting his hand. "I can hardly believe the Slytherin Quidditch captain would be out of luck."

"I'm doing fine." Marcus yanked his hand out of his mother's and scowled at Carolina, who smiled sardonically back as she ate another bite of her pudding.

Later that evening, as Carolina was exiting the bathroom, Marcus stopped her in her tracks, blocking the doorway.

"You think you're so much better than me, don't you?" He snarled at her, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Marcus, have you ever paused to think that maybe I am?" She rolled her eyes at him, trying to step around him and return to her room.

"Just you wait. Your O.W.L. transcript will arrive and then how do you think mother and father will react when they find out how much you love Muggle Studies? Then they'll see you for what you really are."

"Which is what? Someone actually invested in their education? At least none of my O.W.L. grades will be Troll," Carolina shot back, finally forcing her way around his hulking torso and storming back to her room.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Sorry this chapter's a bit shorter than the rest! Once again, a big thank you those of you have been reviewing. I didn't realize how encouraging the feedback would be, but it's been wonderful!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

For the rest of the week, both Carolina and Marcus avoided each other as if they had each contracted spattergroit. She spent the majority of her time reading ahead in her textbooks, finishing homework, and wandering around her neighborhood, wishing for time to move faster than the slow crawl in which it seemed to be stuck. New Years Day was interminable as she wasn't allowed to venture out of the house on her normal walk, because of another grand dinner her mother had planned in which no one really said anything at all to each other.

So it was with great relief and a note of hopefulness that she found herself an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express back to the castle. She enjoyed the train rides on the holidays. There weren't as many students and she could pass the afternoon however she wanted, reading, looking out the window, thinking, without any interruptions. And even better, she wasn't required to attend any prefects meeting.

Outside her compartment window, the sky was a golden color, the sun nearly set over the Scottish highlands. She sighed, before standing up and raising her arms above her head, stretching her back. She had worn her uniform to the station and subsequently didn't need to change, but decided to head to the bathroom anyways as an excuse to move her legs after hours of sitting.

She walked along the quiet train car until she reached the loo. The stalls were vacant, and after emptying her bladder she walked up to the sinks and stared at her reflection in the old and stained mirror. Her hair was slightly ruffled, probably from the static of the train seat, so she smoothed it down, before running her fingers through it.

As she stared at herself, she remembered her mother's harsh words over Christmas—how she should maintain her figure in the hopes that a nice pureblooded boy would notice. She idly undid the top three buttons of her stiff white shirt so that more of her chest was visible. Maybe her mother was right for once in her life. Carolina hadn't particularly enjoyed the loneliness that was brought on when all of her peers had gone on dates to Hogsmeade. Perhaps, there was something to be said for… opening herself to that particular realm of student life. After all, to be a reliable, thoughtful head girl she would have to be… experienced, to an extent, she thought. Maybe even another button… When she looked up from the button that she had slowly undone, she was surprised at her reflection. She had never shown that much cleavage. She suddenly realized how long she had been lingering in front of the mirror and felt momentarily self-conscious, hoping that she wasn't turning into Abigail or Delia.

She rushed out of the bathroom, swinging the door wide open only to hear a loud thunk followed by a harsh expletive.

"Oh!" She yelped, turning around to see Fred—or at least she assumed it to be Fred because it was certainly one of the twins and he was wearing a maroon sweater with a yellow F embroidered in the center of it—clutching his nose and leaning back. "I'm so sorry!" She gushed.

"That was bloody hard! You can't just go swinging doors out like that!" He yelled out as a stream of blood started trickling down over his mouth, before looking down at the culprit. "Oh, it was you."

"Wait here, I'll go get some toilet tissue," Carolina said, frantically rushing into the bathroom, her cheeks ablaze in embarrassment. She returned with a handful of tissue to find Fred looking slightly less angry.

"Are you… okay?" She questioned softly as she handed him the paper.

He promptly held it up to his nose, stopping the flow of blood. "Just swell," he said.

"I'm so sorry, again," Carolina said quietly, looking down.

"No, no, swell—get it? Like my nose is probably swelling up."

Carolina looked up again. His head was tilted back but he was eyeing her with an amused look in his eyes.

"That was an awful joke," she smiled while shaking her head.

"Oh, so first you beat me up and then you insult me? Hardly good prefect behavior, if you ask me."

"I didn't mean to! I can fix it if you'd like?" Carolina said, blushing again.

"I think you at least owe me that," he responded.

"My wand's in my compartment; it's just a car down. Come on." She strode off quickly down the car, looking from side to side, hoping that her brother was seated somewhere else on the train and wouldn't see the redhead following close behind her.

"Hold still," Carolina said. Fred sat directly across from her as she pointed her wand at his nose. He lowered his hand and the blood started flowing afresh. He stared ahead at her, slightly cross-eyed.

"I'm not sure I like being on this end of your wand…"

"Episkey!" Carolina said and with a flourish of her wand as Fred let out a small noise, whether in shock or pain, Carolina wasn't sure. "Tergeo!" She said, waving her wand again and siphoning the blood off of his face.

Fred held up a hand to his nose and felt it gingerly, before breaking into a grin again. "Thanks for that!"

"Anytime," she responded. "Er, I mean, not anytime. You know, I hope not to break your nose again, but you're welcome," she mumbled, stowing her wand in the pocket of her cardigan.

"I hope not as well!" He said jovially and continued to grin at her, his eyes flickering down to the open buttons on her shirt.

Carolina's eyes widened, realizing what it was he was looking at and she shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, before clearing her throat.

"Right," said Fred, his eyes snapping back up to hers, "I'll be off." He stood up. "See you around, Carolina." He took a few steps over to the compartment door and slid it open. He stepped through and shut it behind him. A moment passed in which Carolina's mind seemed to simultaneously move in hyper speed and as if it was stuck in molasses before she jumped to her feet and flew after him.

She slid open the compartment door and hollered, "Wait!"

Fred, who was now a bit of a way down the train car stopped and turn to look at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Did you, um, send me a Christmas gift?" She asked just loud enough for him to hear.

He took a step forward. "Did you like it?" He questioned, his mouth forming a rather attractive smirk, an expression she wasn't used to seeing on him.

She nodded, not trusting her mouth to say anything rational.

"Good." His smirk widened and he turned away and exited the car. Carolina stepped back into her compartment and slid the door shut. She fell back onto the seat, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in her lungs.

* * *

The spring semester took off in full swing and it didn't take more than one or two days back at the castle until Carolina and her classmates were once again bogged down by homework and O.W.L. studies. She had decided on her first night back at Hogwarts to draft a studying schedule for her and Adrian, which she felt was necessary in order to stay on top of school work, her examination studies and prefect rounds. Adrian, however, had not been all too pleased and it showed as they sat together in the library during a free period that morning.

"Right, could you quiz me on Runes? I think I'll be able to do well on the Ancient Egyptian but the Cyrillic is a little difficult still," Carolina said, shuffling through her notes.

"We haven't even started Cyrillic yet!" Adrian exclaimed, lowering the daily prophet he had been reading instead of studying, earning him a stern look from Madam Pince.

"We start in February! And it's going to be on the O.W.L.s," Carolina whispered back.

"I'm not studying anything before I have to," Adrian responded, raising the paper up in front of his face again.

Carolina stared at him, nonplussed. Sometimes she felt like she was the only person in the castle who took their education seriously. Didn't they understand the stakes? Whatever grades you earned on your O.W.L.s dictated which N.E.W.T.s you could take which dictated the jobs you could apply for upon graduation. It was moments like this that she wondered why she had been sorted into Slytherin instead of Ravenclaw.

Suddenly, the moving picture on the front of the Daily Prophet caught her eye. It was once again the photo of mass murderer Sirius Black. The Prophet seemed to be recycling the news story every week or so. "Sirius Black: Still At Large" it read. She began to read the article, squinting to see the fine print from across the table.

"Mass murderer and death eater, Sirius black, known for the gruesome slaughter of thirteen muggles and one wizard, was once again spotted near Hogsmeade village, sources say. Having slipped past dementors upon his escape from Azkaban, it seems the dementors stationed around Hogwarts have been unsuccessful in deterring him from the area. While local residents of the village have begun to hold protestations against the wizarding prison guards roaming above their shops, citing that their presence is bad for business, this reporter finds it opportune to remind the wizarding community at large to readdress its values: Which would you rather have near our schoolchildren? Reliable, ministry administered prison guards or a murderer so maniacal he was sent to Azkaban without a trial?"

Carolina paused. Black never had a trial?

"Adrian, can I borrow that?" She said, without waiting for an answer and snapping the paper out of his hands.

"Sure, I wasn't reading it or anything!" Adrian whispered back, sarcastically, but Carolina wasn't listening. She made short work of the article, but it didn't state anything else revelatory about his case.

She handed Adrian back his paper, who took it, a slightly amused look on his face.

"Strange," Carolina said slowly, staring ahead at the shelves of old books.

"What?" Adrian asked half-heartedly. He had known Carolina long enough to recognize when she was off in her own world and so he wasn't surprised when she didn't deem his question worthy of a response.

For the following few hours, through Transfiguration and lunch, she seemed to be distant, mulling things over in her mind. She didn't even act the know-it-all as she normally enjoyed doing, surprising even McGonagall who was at a loss when no one raised their hand to answer her questions.

"Adrian, go on without me," she said quietly as she slowly packed up her bag after their last class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Shall I save you a seat for dinner?"

"Sure," she said, her eyes trained on Professor Lupin as he magically vanished his notes from the chalkboard. She hitched her bag higher over her shoulder and determinedly walked up to the professor.

"Professor, do you have a minute?"

Lupin turned around, his eyes kindly shining down upon her. "Certainly, Ms. Flint."

"I wasn't sure who to ask about this. You see, I would go to Professor Dumbledore seeing as he is on the Wizengamot, but it's hardly easy to just approach the headmaster, even for a prefect and well, I came across something curious and it vaguely has to do with dark magic so I thought… I might ask you?"

Lupin smiled, amused by her prelude. "Of course, ask away." He clasped his hands in front of him and leaned back against the clean chalkboard.

"I was reading the Daily Prophet this morning, and there was an article about Sirius Black," Carolina started as Lupin's expression darkened significantly. "And, well, the article mentioned that he had gone to Azkaban without being found guilty, without going to trial. That's illegal isn't it?"

Lupin took a breath in. "That's a complicated question. He was found guilty. The director of the department of law enforcement, at the time Bartemius Crouch, found him guilty. It wasn't all that uncommon in those days, just after the fall of He Who Must Not Be Named, for criminals to be sent straight to prison."

"But the ministry wouldn't do that now, would they?"

"It would be rather suspect if they did it now, no? The policy was Crouch's own doing, and when he lost the bid for minister, the department of magical law backed off somewhat from their incarceration streak."

Carolina paused before saying slowly, "It seems rather counterintuitive that a government official, not elected by the wizarding populace, would hold so much power over such important business."

"With or without a trial, Sirius Black was found at the scene of the crime, with multiple eyewitnesses," Professor Lupin said.

"But without a trial, there could be no record of proving him guilty, right?"

"It wasn't a matter of proving him guilty, so much as him already being guilty, in Crouch's eyes that is. Now, Ms. Flint, I suggest we adjourn to dinner," he said, turning his back on her to collect a stack of books from his desk. "You seem to have an affinity for magical law," he continued, turning back to her.

Carolina nodded. "It's… complex, I suppose."

"You might want to indulge in the legal section of our library. There are some very interesting case documents there."

"Thank you, sir," Carolina said, nodding. Her questions weren't quite answered but she had already suspected Professor Lupin would not have been able to answer them anyway. His expertise in Dark Magic seemed to be dark creatures, based on his lesson plans at least.

Carolina, suddenly not hungry, decided to head straight to the library.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Professor Lupin's advice had sparked a flame that had ignited a fully-fledged forest fire within Carolina. Disregarding her normal studying schedule, and even shortening her prefect rounds, she had developed a newfound obsession. She had started with a book on the International Wizarding Statute of Secrecy, before moving on to "Unlawful Wizard Muggle Relations," then "A History of Wizarding Court," then "Trials by Duel," then "19th Century Wizarding Law." Currently, she was nearing the end of "Beasts And Their Burdens: Incarcerating Creatures," which detailed the history of how Wizards punished beasts in the face of illegality.

Adrian had become annoyed by her newfound obsession and had subsequently taken to spending more of his time with Miles than her, which she didn't mind; it gave her more time alone to spend reading.

Today however, she was not entirely alone.

"Excuse me?" a meek voice sounded from in front of her library study table. "Are you," the voice paused, "Carolina Flint?"

Carolina looked up sharply. "Yes?" she said with a disgruntled expression, not one to enjoy having her reading interrupted.

"Madam Pince said that you have 'Beasts And Their Burdens' checked out?"

"Yes," she growled again, raising an eyebrow. "And?" Now that she was looking up at the voice, she recognized the speaker. It was that little Gryffindor with bushy hair and big teeth that always hung around Harry Potter and the Weasley Twins' little brother.

"I was wondering if I could have it, it's rather urgent, you see."

Carolina gave her withering look. "I have it checked out because I'm reading it."

"Oh," the Gryffindor girl looked down at her shoes nervously, before looking bravely back at Carolina right in the eye. "It's just that, Hagrid's Hippogriff clawed Malfoy whose dad is having the Ministry put Buckbeak on trial and Hagrid might lose his job and have to leave Hogwarts or even go to Azkaban, and Harry and Ron aren't helping me study because I told McGonagall about the firebolt Harry got, and now they aren't talking to me, and it would just be really helpful if I could borrow the book-I can have it back to you by tomorrow morning-" she said rapidly in one full breath.

"Hold on," Carolina said, interrupting her. Nothing the girl had just said made any sense. "There's a hippogriff on trial? And he's not talking?"

"Oh no, Harry and Ron aren't talking to me because I told McGonagall about the Firebolt he received anonymously and she confiscated it for inspection, but the ministry… They want to execute Buckbeak!" the girl yelped, looking frantic, her hair frizzier than normal.

Carolina sighed. The girl looked like she was ready to burst a gasket out of stress. "Is that why Draco can't play quidditch? Because a hippogriff attacked him?" Marcus had ranted about it to her angrily just after the incident, before deciding to forgo the Gryffindor match and have them play Hufflepuff instead, but that had been months ago, when he was still talking to her.

"Malfoy insulted him" the girl said tersely, upturning her nose slightly. "If he had been listening to Hagrid, he would have known not to. It was his own fault."

Carolina weighed her options. Sure, she was enjoying this book and wasn't particularly inclined to help any Gryffindor without personal gain, but in the end, she was merely reading for pleasure and this girl wanted the book for an actual legitimate purpose.

"The section on creatures punished for injuring wizards starts on…" she rifled through the pages, "here, 124." She slid the book across the table.

"Oh, thank you! I'll have it back to you by tomorrow," the girl said, grabbing the book.

"Don't bother, just have Madam Pince check it out for you instead of me," Carolina replied. She had a career meeting with her head of house that if she didn't leave soon, she would be late to anyways. And then dinner, and then prefect rounds. And then it would be Monday and she'd have coursework and she really shouldn't have forsaken her O.W.L. studies like she did. "And by the way," Carolina said, "they'll get over it. Third year boys are idiots." She hoped the girl would calm down some, and saw it as her prefect-ly duty to attempt to sedate her at least.

"Thank you!" The girl whispered, looking extremely relieved, before scurrying off to the front of the library to where Madam Pince stood staring eagle-eyed over her domain.

Carolina packed her bag with her remaining books, pushed in her chair and made her way out of the library and to the dungeons where Professor Snape's office was located.

Carolina arrived with just two minutes to spare and she let out a sigh of relief. She paused before knocking; the wooden door was ajar and she could just make out the Potions Professor's slow drawl drifting out through the door.

"While your confidence in yourself is admirable, Mr. Montague, to become an Unspeakable, you would need Outstandings across the board in your N.E.W.T. year, yes even in Divination," Professor Snape said. "And unfortunately," he continued, "you currently hold an Acceptable in Transfiguration, Divination, and Charms, a Poor in Herbology and Ancient Runes, and Exceeds Expectations at best in my class. You will have to commit yourself much harder to your studies and what with quidditch. Perhaps… you would be interested in another field in the ministry."

Montague said something inaudible to Carolina and she heard the sound of shuffling papers.

"Unfortunately, our time is up… Ms. Flint, if you would knock next time. It's rude to eavesdrop."

Carolina blushed as the heavy door swung open revealing a very red Montague who sent her a rather dangerous glare.

Carolina quickly stepped inside the dark room, making sure to fully close the door behind her.

"I'm sorry Professor. I arrived early and I didn't want to interrupt," she apologized, taking a seat.

"No matter," Professor Snape said, pulling out a sheet of paper from a folder in front of him. On his desk, facing her, Carolina saw various colored pamphlets outlining different career paths one could follow. "Now, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that you have a wide range of options to choose from."

"No, sir," Carolina replied, eyeing the different job titles. Cursebreaker, Goblin Liaison, Reporter, Misuse of Magic Official, Auror, Healer, Broomstick Handler…

"Is there any that particularly strike your fancy?" Snape said slowly. "You have quite a skillful hand in my class… Perhaps, working in a potions laboratory at St. Mungo's?"

"Well, I'm not sure there's a pamphlet for it, Professor," Carolina said nervously, her eyes still trained on the papers in front of her, "but I'd like to be, eventually that is, on the Wizengamot." Carolina raised her eyes to meet his finally, worried that her ambition would be scorned.

"Naturally," Professor Snape said, and Carolina felt her chest swell with pride. Of course, she hadn't voiced that her ultimate ambition was to hold the seat of High Warlock; she hadn't told that to anyone, not even Adrian, for fear of being told it was a silly dream. "Now then, perhaps you would like a pamphlet on Magical Law Enforcement."

"Thank you, sir," Carolina beamed at him, taking the papers. "But you see, Professor, I don't particularly want to be an Auror, and I'm not sure what jobs there are if you want to work in the judiciary branch of the department."

Professor Snape's eyebrows raised in surprise, before his face returned to it's normal dour state. "Not an Auror, you say? I've heard from… other professors that you have a particular proclivity for nonverbal spells already. Are you sure, then?"

Carolina shrugged noncommittally. "While I do believe the Auror department is important, I just, well, I've been reading a lot about magical law and, it's quite complicated isn't it? There doesn't seem to be a set of rules that every Minister follows, nor a protocol for how a trial is supposed to be run, or even a standard on how to write legislature, and I just think that... well, what does it matter if you catch a dark wizard or two if the politicians can run amok without any oversight!" Carolina finished in a huff.

Once again, Professor Snape seemed to look surprised. "Enlightening," Snape drawled. "Yes, very well. Perhaps working directly in the minister's office then," he responded, handing her another pamphlet. He tapped his fingers, staring at Carolina curiously, before she cleared her throat. "Whichever direction you choose to go, I'm sure you will not find it hard, considering your grades this year. If you can keep them up through your N.E.W.T.s, which I'm sure you will, you will have, as they say, the pick of the litter, Ms. Flint."

"Thank you, Professor," Carolina said, uncertain of what she had gained from the career meeting.

"You may go to dinner, Ms. Flint," the Professor said, dismissing her as he turned back to shuffle through the papers in his folder.

Dinner consisted of shepherd's pie and broccoli for Carolina, and although she sat next to Adrian, he was heavily engaged in a conversation with Miles Bletchley and Cassius Warrington. Graham Montague sat next to them, sulking and shuffling the food on his plate around.

"Adrian," Carolina interrupted, lost in her own thoughts. "Have you had your career meeting with Snape yet?"

"No, mine's tuesday during our free period," Adrian responded, his face downfallen, obviously not looking forward to the meeting at all.

"Hm…" Carolina trailed off. "Let me know how it goes, yeah?"

"Well, we all know how yours went," Graham cut in, glaring at Carolina from down the table. "Oh, Professor!" he yelled out in a high and girlish voice, "I can't choose a career, I just love school so much!" Carolina rolled her eyes. Miles and Cassius burst out laughing and Carolina heard Adrian chuckle from beside her.

She shot him a hateful look. "What?" he said, grinning at her, "you do love school!"

"Oh, school, will you marry me?" Miles said, pretending to swoon while Graham and Cassius clutched their stomachs from laughing.

"Oh, ha-ha," said Carolina. "Don't come to me for my notes when you're desperately studying for your O.W.L.s, then." She pushed her plate in and stormed away, determined to get another hour of charms practice in before her prefect rounds that evening.

Three hours later, Carolina was nearing the end of her rounds. She had been tasked with patrolling the second and third floor corridors and tonight had been a slow and boring night. The only soul she'd seen so far was Filch's raggedy cat, Mrs. Norris who scampered off as soon as Carolina brandished her wand at her, not in the mood to deal with Filch or his mangy cat.

She stopped abruptly, hearing footsteps. She held her breath and silently stepped closer to the wall, hoping to catch whoever was walking towards her. By the sound of it, there were more than one of them…

"Nox," she whispered and the light streaming from the end of her wand went out. The footsteps were getting closer. They were about to round the corner of the hallway…

Carolina stepped out into the center of the corridor and waved her wand, and having practiced 'Lumos' nonverbally, was able to produce an exceptionally strong light that caught the students off guard.

One took a step back, while the other raised his hand to shield his eyes from the bright light.

"Weasleys… I should have known," Carolina said as she faced the twins in front of her, but she lowered her wand slightly nonetheless.

"Wotcher, Madam Prefect," said the one she could only assume to be Fred.

His brother eyed him curiously. "Since when are you friendly with Flint?"

"Oh, we're old pals," Fred said jovially.

"And what are you doing out of bed?" Carolina cut across them, nonplussed.

"Going to the kitchens, of course, would you like to join?" George now openly gaped at Fred.

"I'm a prefect!" Carolina whispered, a scandalized expression filling her face.

"And you have made that perfectly clear!" Fred responded.

"Well, I have to take five points from Gryffindor," she said. "Each."

"No bother, now, to the kitchens?" Fred offered, stepping forwards.

"Are you mental?" George said, finally regaining his ability to speak. "She's a prefect! A Slytherin prefect!"

"I don't see what my house has to do with this," Carolina said indignantly.

"Listen, Carolina, you can take points from us, you can give us detention, but I didn't get an eclair during dessert and there is certainly nothing you can do to further deprive me of my well-deserved eclair," Fred said as he stepped around her.

"But-but!" Carolina spluttered, as George hastily hurried after his brother. "You have to go back to your common room!"

The twins' legs were much longer than Carolina's and she found herself out of breath, just trying to keep up with their long strides as they descended two more sets of stairs despite her hushed protestations.

Finally, they came to a stop in front of large painting of a basket of fruit.

"Now, Carolina," Fred said, interrupting her plea for them to return to the Gryffindor tower, "seeing as your not going to hex us, either bugger off or have an eclair."

It was Carolina's turn to gape indignantly at the redhead. "Bugger off?" she said quietly, rather insulted. "You're the ones who need to bugger off!"

"Aren't you at all curious about how to get into the kitchens?" George said, having seemingly made peace with having a Slytherin join them.

"I—" Carolina started to say, before cutting herself off. If she was honest with herself, yes. She was extremely curious. She nodded meekly.

"Very good, then. Now, you just tickle the pear, like so," Fred said stretching his long fingers out and gently scratching at the bottom of the painted pear. The pear let out a giggle, before turning into golden doorknob.

Carolina stared as the redhead grabbed hold of the doorknob and swung open the portrait to reveal a large, well lit chamber with four long tables; the same tables, she realized as the ones above them, in the Great Hall.

"Welcome to the kitchens, Flint," George said as he sidestepped her, followed by Fred who turned and winked at Carolina.

"You coming? Can't have you standing out there, Filch'll know somethings up."

Carolina merely nodded before following the twins footsteps as the portrait swung shut behind her.

* * *

 **Author's note:** _Hello! I really enjoyed writing this scene between Fred and Carolina and would love to hear your thoughts/criticism/feedback on their interactions? Do the twins seem in character. How about Hermione and Snape? Let me know and thank you for all the favs/follows/reviews so far!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

O.W.L. week was just around the corner, and it seemed that the weather had decided to burst fully into summer to spite the fifth years who had, for weeks, been cooped up in study rooms, and common rooms and huddled around the small library study tables.

There was an aura of mass hysteria drifting about all the fifth year classes. Abigail and Delia had resorted to pepper-up potion to stay up later for studying, and even Carolina had been tempted to join them. There were rumors of fifth years breaking down in the middle of the corridor, sobbing and screaming, before being whisked away to the infirmary for a calming draught from Madam Pomfrey.

Not only had Carolina been practicing her own studies with Adrian every day in the library, she had also taken on the task of helping her brother study for his N.E.W.T.s, if only for the fact that if he didn't graduate, Carolina would be forced to spend an entire year at Hogwarts with him again. And she was quite ready to be done with being called "Flint's sister," as if she wasn't a Flint in her own right. So, for the past few weeks, after she had finished her own homework and O.W.L. review, she would stay up late with Marcus in the common room, quizzing him on whichever subject he pleased.

It came as a great relief to all of the fifth years when they finally had a legitimate excuse to extract themselves from the O.W.L. furor: the Slytherin Gryffindor Quidditch match.

"Aren't you glad you aren't playing, that you can actually enjoy the spectacle?" Carolina nudged Adrian from up high in the Slytherin section of the stands.

"You always feel the need to be right, don't you?" Adrian grinned back.

Carolina laughed, feeling exquisite to be in the sunshine, with her best friend, enjoying the Slytherin spirit. "Perhaps!"

"As long as you don't say 'I told you so,'" Adrian replied.

Carolina merely stuck her tongue out at him, before turning back to look at the pitch. "Oh look! Here they come!" The Slytherin team darted out from the entrance to the pitch, immediately flying high on their speedy Nimbus 2001s. The stands around her erupted in roaring cheers and Carolina yelled along with them. Despite all of her grievances with her brother, it would be nice for Slytherin to win the quidditch cup this year, and beat Gryffindor.

"And here come the Gryffindors!" Boomed out the commentator's familiar voice. "Captained by Oliver Wood, the Gryffindors have had to fight their way back to be in the contending for the cup after their embarrassing loss-sorry, Harry-to Hufflepuff earlier this year. And even still, they need to win by nearly 200 points if they want any chance at-" His commentary was drowned out as the sea of Slytherins booed and yelled profanities at the idea of Gryffindor winning the cup.

"Not very likely!" Adrian yelled out from next to her.

"The captains will now shake hands," the commentator said and Carolina watched with bated breath through her omnioculars as her brother gripped Wood's hand with his vice-like grip, twisting Wood's wrist maliciously.

Fortunately, Wood seemed to push through the pain without responding to Marcus and Carolina breathed a sigh of relief. It would be just like her brother to instigate a fight just before the game to get the other team's captain kicked off the pitch.

"And that's the whistle!" the commentator, who Carolina recognized to be a Gryffindor friend of the Weasley twins (an unfair choice by McGonagall, in her opinion) shouted as the two teams sprang into action.

It was a ridiculously fast paced a game, faster than Carolina had ever seen. The score was quickly 20-0, Gryffindor having scored twice at the very beginning; but then Slytherin seemed to get tougher and stabilized the scoreboard.

"Warrington and Montague have improved!" Adrian yelled over the crowd.

"Still've got nothing on you!" Carolina yelled back, but she wasn't watching the Slytherin chasers. Her eyes were trained on the two redheaded beaters playing for Gryffindor who were deftly sending bludgers back at the Slytherin team, much more effectively that Derrick and Bole were.

"Ooh!" the crowd winced unanimously as Warrington flew directly into one of the Gryffindor chasers, knocking her nearly off her broom. She caught herself with her legs and swung back on effortlessly, looking a little worse for wear.

"That's a foul, isn't it?" Carolina leaned over, asking Adrian.

"Are you a Slytherin or not?" He yelled back, before focusing his attention on the game.

"Just saying," Carolina said under her breath. Of course she was rooting for Slytherin to win, but she wasn't supportive of either team if they used violent tactics to win-which seemed to be the case.

Ten minutes later, Slytherin had scored two goals as well, both by Marcus, equalizing the scoreboard.

Carolina watched as Marcus soared through the air, a conceited smirk plastered on his face. She could tell he was beginning to get overly cocky. Suddenly, he grabbed the beater's bat from Bole and swung it with all of his might as at a passing bludger. It ricocheted off, heading straight towards an unsuspecting Weasley twin. Carolina let out a yelp as it smashed into his left hand and his broom spun wildly backwards, nearly knocking him off. The Gryffindors let out a fearsomely angry roar of insults and protestations as Madame Hooch blew her whistle, signalling a penalty.

Carolina however, wasn't watching as one of the Gryffindor chasers easily scored the penalty against Miles. Her omnioculars were focused directly on the twin, as his brother flew up to him. She realized that perhaps her brother's foul had been especially targeted, as she read the 'F. Weasley' on the back of the injured beater's robes. The twins muttered together for a moment, as Fred cradled his hand against his stomach, before shaking it and wincing. But no sooner had they flown together, had the game started up again and they both took off in opposite directions.

The game continued, the Slytherins growing more and more outright vicious as they realized they were losing.

"Don't they realize they're going to lose if they keep giving up penalties?" Carolina leaned in, asking Adrian who looked exceedingly glum as the Gryffindors were now up 80 to 20, despite the massive list of injuries obtained throughout the game.

"They still would have to catch the snitch to win the cup," Adrian responded glumly. "And Potter's a tosspot."

Carolina nodded her head in agreement, knowing in the back of her mind that Potter, despite his obnoxious desire for trouble, was a significantly better seeker than Draco Malfoy. Besides, apparently he had a firebolt.

"It looks like Potter's seen something!" the commentator called out, before adding "And Malfoy's hot on his tail! This is going to be a close race!"

The match seemed to move in slow motion as the entire stadium, including some of the Slytherin Quidditch team, paused to watch the two seekers race at breakneck speeds to catch the tiny golden ball that glinted in the late spring sunlight. Then, in a moment, it was over and the Gryffindor crowds had burst into a joyous uproar

"And Gryffindor win the match with a score of 230 to 20, that's a 210 point difference, winning us the inter-house quidditch cup!" yelled the commentator, before jumping up and giving a very disgruntled Professor McGonagall a hug. She initially looked put-off, before giving in and giving him a brief pat on the back and turning back to the pitch to applaud the Gryffindor team.

"Move outta the way!" came an angry voice from behind Carolina. Pushing their way through the moping Slytherin crowd, came two angry figures. Carolina recognized them as the two thugs who hung around Malfoy-both much bigger than the average size of a third year.

"Hey! Watch it!" she snarled as they shoved past her, forcing her back onto her seat with a strength so mighty that it knocked her wand out of her pocket. Carolina reached out her hand quickly to grab it, only to have her knuckles stepped on by the hefty weight of one of the boys-either Crabbe or Goyle, she could never tell them apart. "Ow!" she called out in dismay as she watched her wand roll away and fall through the cracks in the floorboards, plummeting to the bottom of the Quidditch stands. "Bloody third years, Carolina," muttered under her breath. "Don't wait for me, Adrian." She grumpily headed down the stairs to search for her wand in the tall grass.

After nearly fifteen minutes of weeding through the reeds beneath the stands, her shoes thoroughly caked in mud, Carolina finally found her wand. She mentally scolded herself; this would have been much easier if she had forced Adrian to join her and he had simply accio'ed her wand back to them. Not her brightest moment, indeed.

She scowled as she crawled back out from underneath the stands, muddying her knees. Her robes were dirty, she still had O.W.L.s to study for, and now Marcus was going to be a total git until graduation, probably. Things would have been much easier for her had Slytherin won the match, or at least not lost so thoroughly.

"Carolina?" a familiar voice said from behind her.

"Weasley," she snarled, turning around to look at him, not in the mood for his antics, however her expression softened upon seeing him. He still had his hand cradled to his chest, but it was significantly redder now, and quite swollen, and a dark bruise was beginning to grow on the pinky finger, which was hanging limply at a strange angle. "Are you okay?"

"What, this?" he said waving the injured hand, before wincing. "It's nothing," he chuckled.

Carolina knitted her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I think it might be my fault," she said, walking a few steps closer to him to better look at his hand.

"How in the world would this be your fault?" Fred questioned, a confused look on his face.

"I think my brother sent the bludger at you because he saw us talking in Hogsmeade," Carolina said quietly.

"Then, it's still his fault for being a git. You can talk to whoever you want," he said, smiling down at her.

"Still. Do you want me to try and fix it? I'm not as good as Madam Pomfrey, but I'm okay at healing spells."

Fred eyed her suspiciously. "And what if you just made it worse? You are a Slytherin…" he trailed off, raising his eyebrows, grinning mischievously.

"Hey!" Carolina said, pushing his shoulder slightly in protest, as he mocked wincing in pain. "Here, I can at least fix your pinky." She held out her hand and he gingerly placed his in hers. She held her wand up and opened her mouth.

"What in the bloody world happened to your wand? And your hand too! It's bruised!" Fred said, before she could say the spell, eyeing her mud-caked wand and red knuckles.

"Just a bit of mud, Crabbe and Goyle's fault," she muttered, before saying "episkey." Fred's pinky snapped back into place as he inhaled sharply.

"We seem to be making this a habit of this, me getting injured because of you, you healing me," Fred said, grinning again.

"I thought you previously stated this time it wasn't my fault!" Carolina argued back, matching his smile. "How changeable you are!"

"'How changeable?' There you go again, talking like a professor," Fred admonished, taking a step closer to her.

Carolina opened her mouth to respond wittily, but was cut off by a booming "Carolina!"

Carolina swung her head around wildly. "Get away from that blood-traitor!" Marcus snarled nastily, his wand raised.

Carolina turned to face her brother as he exited the changing rooms. "Or what, Marcus? You're going to tell mummy and daddy? You already tried that."

Marcus looked even angrier, and Carolina knew in the back of her mind, this was not the time to push her brother, but she couldn't help it. He was acting like a stuck-up brat.

"Or Weasley'll get another broken bone to match his hand!" he yelled, pointing his wand at Fred's chest.

"I'd like to see you try!" Fred yelled out, picking up his own wand.

"Marcus, why don't you go back to the common room." Carolina said, deciding that diffusing the situation was the best course of action.

"I'm not leaving unless you come back with me and promise not to talk to that idiot again!"

"Oi!" Fred called out.

"I can talk to whomever I please," Carolina said, frowning.

"No, you bloody can't!" Marcus yelled, waving his wand and sending a stinging hex at Fred, who it missed by inches, hitting Carolina in the shoulder.

"Marcus, you twat!" Carolina cried out, holding her shoulder, before sending a jinx right back at him, hitting him squarely in the stomach. He keeled over and fell down in the grass.

Carolina turned to Fred. "You should go," she said seriously. Fred nodded quickly at the hardened look in her eyes and scampered up the hill to the castle doors, not needing to be told twice

She slowly approached her brother. "You all right?" She asked, kneeling down next to him. He grunted in response. "You should really work on your aim before the N.E.W.T.s, Marcus," Carolina said lightly, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Apparently, she had misread how mad Marcus actually was because his face turned a bright red color and his eyes ignited in fury. "You will learn to stay away from him, you bitch!" He said, sitting up abruptly and grabbing his wand again.

Carolina eyed him coolly; she wasn't afraid of him. She knew that her magical prowess greatly outshone his. "Don't call me that," she said standing up again. "And you can forget about using me for your studies," before turning her back on him and walking away. She could hear the rustle of grass as Marcus pulled himself up and started back to the castle.

Carolina suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion overcome her and she quickly made her way over to the lake, before slumping down on a rock in the shade. She leaned back, closed her eyes and tried to inhale deep, calming breaths.

It was almost too much, everything she was feeling—her rage at Marcus trying to control her, the constant stress over O.W.L.s, her sleep deprivation from studying so much, the confusing feelings she felt when she thought about how she could actually stand a Gryffindor's (and a Weasley's at that) presence, the anxiety that coursed through her veins at the thought of Marcus telling their parents that she hexed him, the disappointment that while Abigail and Delia had gone on dates for all of the Hogsmeade weekends and that she hadn't, how she longed for a sibling she could feel close to, everything. She felt her eyes well up with wetness and she squeezed her toes together inside her muddy shoes to halt the tears. "Don't cry," she whispered to herself. "Don't fucking cry." And she didn't.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

Carolina had not spoken to Marcus in weeks. In fact, he hadn't said one word to her since the day of the Slytherin Gryffindor Quidditch match. He hadn't glared at her, looked at her, or acknowledged her existence in any way whatsoever. Their mother had met them at King's Cross so Marcus hadn't even had to apparate home with her.

Mealtimes had been particularly dull, and Carolina often excused herself early seeing as nobody attempted to engage her in any conversations. She took to serving herself as little as possible, so that she could be out of their company and back in the safety of her bedroom as quickly as her parents allowed. Then, late at night, when her stomach growled, she would return downstairs to hunt for leftovers.

She had finished all of her summer homework within the first week, and had Adrian not written to her nearly daily, she felt she would have lost her mind. So it came as a particular surprise when her father addressed her one hot July morning during breakfast.

"Carolina," he said, "it appears your O.W.L. results have come in the mail." He held up a large rectangular envelope.

Carolina let out an audible yelp and quickly scampered around the table, her chair scratching the wooden floor in her haste, to snatch the envelope out of his hands.

"Carolina!" Her mother scolded, "you're sixteen—you should know better than to grab!"

"Sorry, mum," Carolina mumbled, staring transfixed at the envelope, before making quick work of the seal and ripping it open. She pulled out the parchment from inside and unfolded it.

"Well?" Her father asked. "Hand it over."

"Okay," Carolina said without really hearing him, her eyes darting across the parchment.

"Ordinary Wizarding Level Examination Results: Flint, Carolina. Slytherin," the top of the parchment read. Beneath it was a list of classes with a letter next to each class:

"Arithmancy: O

Astronomy: E

Charms: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: O

Muggle Studies: O

Potions: O

Study of Ancient Runes: E

Transfiguration: O,"

A key at the bottom of the parchment explained each of the different letters, stating: "O for Outstanding, E for Exceeds Expectations, A for Acceptable, P for Poor, D for Dreadful, and T for Troll."

Carolina frowned. She had expected the E in Ancient Runes, it had been a difficult test and rote memorization was not her forté, but in Charms? She had felt relatively confident going into that examination, and had been sure she had scored high on her practical. But someone must have scored higher.

And the A in Herbology… that was fine, she had been planning to drop the useless subject anyways. What did she need to know how to grow plants for when she could buy them from an actual trained herbologist?

"Carolina," her father said again, his palm outstretched, expectantly.

Carolina's heartbeat temporarily quickened; she didn't want her father to know she would be continuing with Muggle Studies as a N.E.W.T. subject.'

"I'll read them, so both you and mum can hear," Carolina said, thinking on her feet, and she proceeded to list off her grades, changing Muggle Studies to an A.

"Those are quite the marks, Carolina," her father said, before turning back to his morning Prophet. Carolina felt her cheeks burst into a wide smile; she couldn't remember the last time her father had paid her a compliment.

"Perhaps warranting a celebration?" Her mother said, turning to her father and raising her thin eyebrows.

"Ah yes, Carolina dear, we've been invited by the Malfoy family over for dinner tomorrow evening—you may know their son, Draco? He's two years below you, and quite close with Marcus."

Carolina nodded hesitantly. Was this their idea of a celebration? Bringing her to a dinner that she would have probably already attended anyways? Or had they been planning on forgetting to mention it to her?

"I hear Draco is quite handsome," her mother said, turning back to smile primly at Carolina.

"He's a third year!" Carolina exclaimed.

"A fourth year now," her mother countered.

"Either way," her father said from behind his paper, "it would be prudent for you to be there, to show them that we are a powerful, intelligent Slytherin family."

"I suppose," Carolina consented, leaning back in her chair. So much for a celebration.

"I believe there will be other families attending as well, all with sons who are friends of Draco's," her mother said conspiratorially. "And if I say so myself, there could be no better way to celebrate a successful academic year than finding you a proper beaux."

Carolina's father made a sound of approval from behind his paper.

Carolina grimaced. Friends of Draco meant Crabbe and Goyle—who, after stepping on her hand at the Quidditch final, she considered to be the least eligible bachelors of Hogwarts.

"We'll have to find you something suitable to wear, of course," her mother continued. "Perhaps a dragon leather dress from the storeroom? One of the unreleased designs?" She asked her husband, who nodded imperceptibly in response before lowering his paper and fixing Carolina with an unwavering stare.

"Carolina," he started, "you will undoubtedly be asked about your O.W.L. results. You will not, under any circumstance, let it slip that you took Muggle Studies. Is that understood?"

"Yes, father," Carolina said, feeling drained by the earlier promises and letdowns of the conversation. "If you would excuse me, I should go write Adrian my O.W.L.s." She pushed in her chair, and retreated to her room glumly.

Later that evening, Carolina was standing by the fireplace in a fitted green dress with cap sleeves; the dragon skin glinted yellow in the lamplight. Marcus stood next to her, staring fixedly across the room at a painting of an old wizard with a crup on his lap. Her brother's dress robes were black with buttons and accents made from the same dragon hide as Carolina's dress. Her mother had always enjoyed dressing them to match.

"We will be flooing, so Carolina, make sure you land like a lady—no falling out of the chimney like a drunken house elf like you did at your Great Aunt Garrol's funeral."

"Yes, mum," Carolina replied.

"Right, I will go first," their father said stepping forward, "then you," he nodded to his wife, "Marcus, and finally Carolina. It must be that order." Carolina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Then, he grabbed a handful of floo powder from the small bag hanging next to their fireplace, stepped in, tossed it on the ground and yelled "Malfoy Manor!" amidst the burst of green flames, before disappearing.

Then, Carolina's mother stepped into the fireplace and was gone in a flash, the same way as her husband, leaving Carolina alone with Marcus for the first time since they had thrown hexes at each other on the Hogwarts grounds. Carolina felt her pulse rise, nervous that Marcus would instigate something, but he merely followed suit after their parents without the slightest acknowledgement that he had been anywhere near her proximity.

Carolina sighed and grabbed a handful of the floo powder. It was smooth and cool, just like fine sand after dark. She stepped into their ornate fireplace, before throwing the powder down onto the floor. She felt the green flames—cool, just as the powder had been—leap up against her legs, and she confidently called out "Malfoy Manor!"

Carolina ran a hand through her hair, attempting to calm down the flyaways that traveling by floo always seemed to cause. She then gently straightened her dress, which had gotten twisted as she had hurtled from her own chimney to this grand one, before stepping out and taking in the room.

"And this must be Carolina," a voice simpered and a thin blonde woman stepped forward, grabbing her forearms and leaning in to kiss her cheeks.

"That she is," she heard her mother say, before the woman continued on.

"Oh, isn't she just darling!"

"Carolina, this is Narcissa Malfoy, and her husband, Lucius Malfoy, and you know Draco…"

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Carolina said, shaking hands with Mr. Malfoy, before nodding to Draco. She could almost feel her mother's ferocious smile burning into the side of Carolina's head—a smile to mask the nervousness at being in the presence of such a well regarded pureblood family.

"And this is Gorlick and Matilda Goyle, their son is in Draco's year as well," her mother continued to make introductions. Carolina shook the two hulking men's hands.

"Unfortunately Gregory couldn't make it tonight," Mrs. Goyle stated, "however he sends his regards."

Carolina forced herself not to scoff. It was highly unlikely that Goyle knew what "sending your regards" even meant.

"You can tell him that he will be missed," Carolina said politely, before returning to stand by her mother. She knew this was not the time or place to allow her true thoughts to be known.

"Oh, how nice, Carolina," her mother simpered again.

"Are the Crabbes not in attendance?" Her father turned to face Lucius.

"Regretfully, they couldn't be here tonight, but have assured me they will make themselves available in the future," Lucius said.

"Quite a shame," her father responded. "My son tells me that Vincent and Gregory would make good additions to the Slytherin team, perhaps as beaters. Isn't that right Marcus?"

Marcus nodded stupidly, unaware that it was his turn to uphold the conversation. A swelling silence overcame them for a moment, before Carolina felt it her duty to step in and save her brother.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Carolina said, turning back to the blonde woman, "your home is beautiful—and is that an original painting of Damocles Rowle?" She wasn't lying. The manor seemed immaculately decorated from what she could tell from the sitting room they now occupied.

"It is," Narcissa said, "by a very well-regarded painter as well. It was painted just after he stepped down as Minister and has been passed down through the family since then. A very good eye you have there, not many your age would recognize him."

Carolina smiled as her father stepped in. "Carolina has a penchant for magical history. She was the only fifth year to receive an O on her History of Magic Owl."

"Is that so?" Lucius trailed off, eyeing her carefully.

"Yes, sir."

"And otherwise how did you fare?" Mrs. Goyle questioned as all eyes turned to focus on Carolina.

"Quite well," her mother jumped in. "Six O's, and three E's!"

"Very well, indeed!" Mrs. Goyle said, nodding in Carolina's direction.

"But I hear this isn't the only news we have to celebrate?" Lucius stated.

"Yes, our family is simply reeling from our most recent development!" Her mother said jovially.

"My son tells me that Marcus has been drafted to play on the Falmouth Falcons!" Lucius continued.

"What!" Carolina whispered in shock, before covering her mouth, and playing it off as a cough. Marcus certainly wasn't that good. She eyed her brother suspiciously, but he was ignoring her again, his chest puffed out as he fielded questions from the Goyles and Malfoys.

"Excuse you," her mother leaned over and harshly whispered to her while the other guests fawned over Marcus.

"That is certainly news to celebrate!" purred Narcissa. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room for a toast?"

After the initial discussion of her O.W.L. results, Carolina was greatly ignored for the rest of the meal.

She was occasionally entreated for personal information from Mrs. Goyle and Mrs. Malfoy who were seated opposite her and her mother, but the majority of the conversation between the women focused on the new designs of her parents' dragon leather clothing, and whether Gladrags or Twillfitt's or Madam Malkin's was the superior store to carry the clothing line.

Down the table from her, Carolina's father and the two other men had been gravely discussing the falling standards at the Ministry of Magic. If Carolina heard it right, and she often did, it sounded as if a ministry employee had disappeared at the beginning of the summer and no effort had been made into investigating her whereabouts. Carolina was about to open her mouth and ask how that could be, when she felt her mother's pointed heel dig into the top of her foot and she quickly shut her mouth, casting a discreet glare at her mother who merely widened her eyes dramatically in response, as if to say "not here."

Marcus, still, was treating her as if she was a particularly transparent poltergeist and had been engaged in a conversation with Draco for much of the meal. So, after the dessert, the after-dinner drinks, and retiring to the sitting room, Carolina breathed out a sigh of relief when her mother stated that it was getting late and they should be heading home.

"Why don't you take Carolina home, dear," her father responded. "Lucius, Gorlick and I have a bit more to discuss." So it was decided that Carolina and her mother would return home, while Marcus waited with Draco for their fathers to finish.

Once home, Carolina quickly brushed her teeth and hair, before getting into bed. She couldn't' however, for the life of her, fall asleep, as something was tugging at the back of her mind. It was strange, she thought, as the hour grew later and later and still her father and Marcus hadn't returned, that her family had only been invited over to the Malfoy's now, even though Draco and Marcus had been playing quidditch together for two years. Yes, even though her mother and Narcissa seemed to move in the same social circle. Why now? And it was only at one in the morning, when she finally heard the gentle whoosh of floo powder and hushed voices echoing up the stairs, that she fell into a deep slumber.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

"Carolina, if you would stay seated a bit longer, I have some rather exciting news for you," Carolina's father said, before taking a sip from his cup of English Breakfast. Carolina sat back in her chair with a thump. She had been about to escape back to her room, having scarfed down a piece of toast and nearly burnt her tongue on a piping hot cup herself in her desire to spend as little time at the breakfast table as she could.

"Yes, father?" Carolina urged him, hoping his announcement, whatever it was, would be quick.

"Lucius, upon personal invitation of the Minister of Magic himself, has been invited to sit in the Minister's box at the Quidditch World Cup this summer and offered me his three extra tickets." If the Malfoys had invited them to attend the Quidditch World Cup with them, then their dinner the previous week must have gone better than she had judged, Carolina thought to herself.

"We'll be camping right by the stadium too," Marcus added eagerly, his dark eyes glinting. "Right near where the Irish team are staying."

"Oh?" Carolina's interest was piqued. She wasn't as big a quidditch fanatic as Marcus, obviously, but would never turn down World Cup tickets.

"Yes, we will be leaving in a fortnight."

"In the meantime, your Hogwarts letters came," her mother said, handing her the two pieces of paper. "Once again, it seems you have been made Prefect."

"Naturally," her father said, not looking up from the Daily Prophet. Carolina grinned at her brother, who sat silently brooding across from her.

"Dress robes?" Carolina questioned, looking at the second piece of parchment that listed her necessities for sixth year. "What would I need dress robes for?"

"Yes, I do believe it warrants a trip to Diagon Alley," her mother said, ignoring Carolina's questions.

"You didn't buy dress robes sixth year, did you Marcus?" Carolina asked her brother.

"Do we know which team the Malfoys are supporting?" Marcus asked her father, ignoring Carolina once again.

"A superb question, the Irish I believe, but why don't you get in touch with Draco and find out for certain," their father responded.

Carolina rolled her eyes as the conversation moved forward. Feeling more like one of the many moving paintings of ancient Flints hanging along their stairwell than a real person, she decided now would be a fine time to finally return to her refuge. She stood up and pushed in her chair. Unsurprisingly, the conversations continued on around her and she left unnoticed.

Just as she reached the foot of the stairs, her mother's voice rang out. "Carolina, dear! Be ready to leave in 40 minutes please, I'd like to get your shopping done early!"

Carolina paused, her foot on the first step. "Yes, mum!" She called back.

An hour later, Carolina and her mother were marching down Diagon Alley. Carolina always marveled at how quickly and nimbly her mother was able to walk along cobblestones alleyways in her thin heels; in fact, Carolina believed that she had secretly bewitched them to appear thinner than they actually were. Or perhaps, a balancing spell had been cast…

"We'll stop at Twilfitt and Tattings first, before picking up your books. And did you need a new cauldron?"

"No, mum," Carolina replied.

"Hm, Marcus's was thoroughly rusted through after his fifth year," her mother said. Probably because he had never correctly brewed a single potion in his life, Carolina thought, biting her tongue to keep from responding.

"I could use a few new quills, though."

"Very good, very good, perhaps a nice ostrich feather…"

Carolina again felt her teeth clamp down on her tongue. An ostrich feather quill was awfully ostentatious. Not to mention impractical. The large plume caught air as it moved, making quick note-taking a near impossibility.

"Here we are," Carolina's mother said, opening the ornate golden door to Twilfitt and Tattings, before slipping in. Carolina sighed, not entirely ready for the ordeal that was shopping with her mother.

The fitting seemed to take hours and Carolina's feet soon became sore from standing in front of her mother, trying on dress after dress. The shop-witch seemed to be growing exasperated as well, after she was repeatedly told to find different sizes and different colors, before having them sent back immediately afterwards.

"Mum, I quite liked the third one," Carolina said, hoping her mother would give in, and they could move on to Flourish and Blotts.

"No, no, it was much too frumpy. You'll thank me later, dear," her mother responded as she held up two frocks in comparison. "Here, this one next." She handed one of the dresses to Carolina who headed back into the changing room.

Carolina pulled off the pink, ruffled sack dress and let it fall to the floor, before pulling the new one off the hanger. It was silky and a deep blue with silver threading that glinted in the light like tiny little stars. Carolina pulled it over her head. It was a bit loose, but overall, she quite liked it. It wasn't as showy as the previous one, and she liked how smooth it felt against her skin.

She stepped out of the changing room. "Oh yes, darling, this is it!" her mother squealed, before snapping her fingers. "You! Yes, you girl," she gestured the shop-witch over again. "I want this taken in. Quickly now." The shop-witch hurriedly pulled out her wand, waving it around the midsection of Carolina's dress. It immediately tightened around her waist and Carolina sucked in her breath, suddenly feeling constricted. "Not that tight, you dolt," her mother said glaring at the young witch. "Do I need to speak to your manager?" The girl frantically shook her head and twirled her wand again.

The fabric loosened slightly and Carolina hesitantly allowed herself to breathe again. Carolina stared at herself in the dressing room mirror as her mother strutted up to the counter to pay. It was quite flattering and she felt her stomach tighten as she thought about the implications of dress robes on the required school supplies list. Something unusual would be happening at Hogwarts this year. Perhaps the sixth years would be attending an elite event. Or perhaps it was for a prefects-only celebration...

Carolina pulled the dress over her shoulders as her mother's voice sounded from outside the changing room. "Hurry along, darling, we can't have you dawdling; it's nearly noon and we still have the rest of your supplies!"

Carolina scowled as she pulled her skirt back on. She hadn't been the one insisting that she try on every bloody frock in the store…

"Yes, mum," she responded obediently.

"Why don't you pick out your quills and meet me at the bookstore afterwards?" her mother called again. "Do you have your coin purse?"

"Yes, mum," Carolina repeated.

"Good. Be in front of Flourish and Blotts in… 10 minutes." Carolina listened to the clicking of her mother's heels against the wooden floor and waited to emerge from the changing room until after the door had swung shut.

Her eyes quickly darted to the shop-witch who was now cowering behind the counter and refusing to make eye-contact with Carolina. She huffed as she exited the store. Yes, her mother was sometimes rather fearsome, but the service hadn't been exactly stellar either.

She crossed the packed street, dodging between families out doing their Hogwarts shopping and the pushcart wizards. A gaggle of day-drunken hags nearly ran her over, but Carolina deftly avoided them.

She entered the quill shop and picked out three sturdy falcon feathers, which she deemed to the best quality for long-form essays and note-taking. She paid the cashier and exited, before beginning her leisurely walk down to Flourish and Blotts.

She had nearly six minutes to spare, so she allowed herself to stare into the packed displays in the storefronts that lined the cobblestone alleyway. She paused in front of the old second hand bookstore. Her eyes widened as they caught a familiar patch of red hair disappearing behind one of the bookshelves. Without a second thought, she pushed open the door and the tiny bell tinkled atop the doorframe.

Carolina easily recognized the store as a kindred soul to Ancient Tomes and Scrolls, perhaps less expensive and with fewer rarities, but just as eccentric. She smiled to herself, before looking around the shop. She found the aisle that Fred had ventured down and was about to call out his name, as she rounded the corner of the aisle, but quickly stopped herself, slapping a hand over her open mouth.

The red hair hadn't belonged to Fred at all, but to a rather plump, middle-aged witch. Carolina quickly pretended to be inspecting the shelf in front of her instead of staring at the witch. Her hair really was the same exact shade as Fred and George's-not to mention Percy's… or their little brother. Suddenly, an idea came to Carolina. It was the same hair. She allowed her eyes to move over the woman, who was now examining two different copies of the same book, probably looking for the one in better condition, without turning her head or outright staring.

"Are you finding everything all right, Mrs. Weasley?" a small, bearded wizard asked, walking up to the witch and confirming Carolina's suspicions.

"Quite, quite," said Mrs. Weasley, "And Eddard, please call me Molly, I've been your customer for years now."

"Yes, of course, ma'am," the man tittered, bowing his head slightly. "Would you like me to bring that up to the register for you?"

"That would be lovely, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied as she handed him what she had deemed the better book option, before returning the other copy to the shelf as the small wizard waddled back the way he came.

Carolina felt her mouth open again, as an involuntary itch to introduce herself to the redheaded witch bubbled inside her chest. She widened her eyes and took a few steps closer. Should she say her last name? That she's a friend of Fred's? Were they friends, even? Had he told his mother about her? Why would he do that? They were only potions partners after all… Potions partners who had gone to the kitchens together…

Just as she was about to reach out a hand to tap the witch's shoulder, she heard the familiar angered tones of her mother's voice ring out through the store as the bell tinkled overhead.

"Carolina! What are you doing in this dump? I specifically asked you to meet me in front of Flourish and Blotts!"

Carolina quickly turned around before Mrs. Weasley could get a good look at her face and scampered down the aisle to find her mother's disapproving frown awaiting her in the doorway.

"I can hardly believe Dumbledore didn't make a mistake in making you prefect. You can barely follow the simplest instructions. Come now, I have afternoon tea with a potential retailer and you are making me late." Her mother turned on her heel without another glance at the dusty store. "And Carolina, just think how it would look if Narcissa or Matilda had happened to see you in there. What would they think of our family? Do you think we would be invited back for dinner?"

"No, mother," Carolina said acidicly, fighting the temptation to hex her mother right then and there. How dare she question Dumbledore's reasoning for choosing Carolina for prefect. She was the best witch of her year. Neither of her parents had been made prefect in their time at Hogwarts. "I think I'm feeling faint," Carolina began, suddenly feeling the violent need to be rid of her overbearing companion. "Could you apparate me home?"

Her mother gave in with an exasperated sigh. "And I suppose you just want me to finish your shopping for you?"

Carolina shrugged noncommittally. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, alright," her mother responded, grabbing Carolina's arm rather sharply and turning on the spot, before disappearing with a loud pop.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

Carolina's feet hit the ground and a sharp pain shot up her legs, forcing her knees to bend from the impact. She steadied herself, before cautiously straightening up and taking a step forward. She hated portkeys.

Looking around, Carolina's interest was suddenly piqued. They seemed to have landed in a vast field. The grass was near golden and glistening in the afternoon light as a gust of wind pushed across it in beautiful waves. She could see small tents in the distance, forming seemingly endless rows that appeared to continue into the horizon.

"4:15 from London?" a tired voice sounded from behind her. Carolina turned to look at the middle aged witch holding a clipboard, onto which she promptly scribbled. Across her chest was a large button that was flashing the word "volunteer" in a lurid shade of magenta.

"Yes," her father said haughtily. "We… are the Flints."

"Right. Lot 22. You'll want to walk down aisle three until just before the woods. Now, if you'll move along, I have a 4:17 from St. Ives coming any moment." The witch let out an enormous yawn, not bothering to stifle it.

Carolina looked at her brother. He eyes were excited and we he noticed her looking at him, he shot her a sneer. A vast difference from the glares she was used to receiving form him.

They followed their father down aisle three, past tents set up by wizarding families who had arrived earlier. The Irish had garnered the most support-many of the tents were covered in glistening shamrocks-perhaps because the cup was held in England this year, however there were also a fair few Bulgaria supporters, as well as witches and wizards who had travelled from all over the world just to watch the spectacle.

Many of the families were sitting down outside their tents for afternoon tea. Carolina smiled at one family with a little girl with green shamrocks in her hair, who had magically enlarged her tea cup to the size of a large shrub and was laughing as her parents frantically looked for their wands to shrink it back down to normal size.

"Come along, Carolina. No dawdling," her father's voice sounded from ahead of her, forcing Carolina to pick up her pace. "We only have forty minutes until the game begins."

After another ten minutes of walking, they found their lot. It seemed that the Malfoys were already present next door, as a large back tent with ornate silver designs along its sides sat placidly on the adjacent lot.

"Marcus, if you would," her father said, indicating towards their lot.

Marcus proceeded to pull out a large piece of folded brown dragon leather. Her father started waving his wand, twirling it gently as the fabric rose from Marcus's hands and unfolded itself. It twisted through the air, spinning softly, before it landed neatly on the lot, where its midsection rose upward to form a pyramid. Just as it settled into its tall shape, a small doormat slid out from underneath the front flaps of the pyramid with the name "Flint" marked on it.

The tent stood up without any support from sticks or poles. It was impressive magic, if Carolina did say so herself.

"Inside, you two," her father said gruffly as he marched into the pyramid.

"Father, I didn't know we had a tent," Carolina called after him, as she followed suit, entering through the brown flaps.

"Scourgify!" her father called, pointing his wand at her feet, and for good reason too. Her shoes were covered in dust and inside their tent was a beautiful green plush rug. The armchairs and sofa were both rather expensive looking dragon hide as well, and there was a large mahogany coffee table in the center. Beyond the sitting area seemed to be small sleeping alcoves with fresh linen beds. "We didn't, I had one specially made for the world cup," her father finally answered. "Marcus, if you would call on Draco next door, perhaps we can walk to the stadium with the Malfoys."

Marcus grinned. "Yes father!"

"And leave your backpack," her father called out again. Marcus dropped his bag by the front of the tent as he sauntered out.

Carolina sat down and pulled a book out of her own bag, watching as her father reached into Marcus's and began extracting a few magical instruments, placing them around the rooms.

She sighed, knowing that if she asked her father what it was he was doing, he would surely tell her that it was too advanced for her, or that she should mind her own business. She turned to her book, "Quidditch Through the Ages," which she had brought with her, feeling it appropriate for the event, and opened it to the first page.

"Father, the Malfoys are leaving and have invited us to walk with them to the stadium!" Marcus called rushing back into the tent, a near five minutes later. Carolina closed her book with a humph, only ten pages in.

"Naturally," her father said. He grabbed his green clock and latched it around his neck. "Come now, Carolina."

Carolina dutifully closed her book and stood up. She didn't bother with her cloak. It was late summer and quite hot out.

"Arris," she heard a deep voice drawl from outside the tent flaps. "We are so glad you could join us."

"Yes, we had such a pleasant evening with you and your family," responded a higher voice. "Ah, Carolina, so wonderful to see you."

Carolina smiled, squinting in the bright afternoon light as she gazed at the Malfoy family. "And you, ma'am. Hello Draco."

"Carolina," the younger student responded with a nod. He looked rather annoyed, in Carolina's opinion.

"Shall we?" Narcissa said, gesturing down the lane. "How is Bellonia, Arris? I've been meaning to floo over to discuss dress robe designs."

"Quite well, quite well," Carolina heard her father respond.

"I am sorry we could only offer three tickets; perhaps she can join us at a future event," Narcissa said.

"She is perfectly happy to have the house to herself for the weekend, I'm sure."

Carolina decided to fall back, allowing the two elder Malfoys to walk with her father, while Draco and Marcus were even further ahead, probably discussing Quidditch tactics or something.

Carolina stared moodily at the ground ahead of her as her feet plonked forward. It was covered in twigs and leaves from the large trees above them, and a few roots cut into the path, making it important to watch your step. This was one of the moment's, like in between classes at Hogwarts, or when she was shopping with her mum, that Carolina wished she could read and walk at the same time. For all her magical knowledge, she had yet to stumble upon a spell that allowed her to do this.

Around them, there were more people, also walking towards the stadium and Carolina contented herself to people watching until they arrived.

"How much farther, father?" Carolina queried, out of breath and panting from the exertion. They had climbed nearly the entire height of the stadium. Her thighs were burning.

"Not much," was her father's reply, but Marcus cut in:

"Wishing you played quidditch now, little sister?" he sneered, looking down at her, before scampering up a few more steps, obviously in better shape than she was. Draco smirked as well, before following her brother.

"Bastard," Carolina muttered under her breath, glaring daggers up the remaining steps into her brother's back.

"Ah! Lucius!" Carolina heard, from the box just ahead of her. "And with your wife and son in tow, how wonderful, how wonderful! Might I introduce you to the Bulgarian Minister, Mr. Oblansk, he doesn't speak much English…"

"Pleasure," Carolina heard Lucius say.

"And Cornelius, I'm happy to introduce you to Arris Flint-owner of Skins & Hides-and his son Marcus, Slytherin Quidditch captain, and this is his daughter Carolina, Slytherin Prefect."

"Charming, charming!" The Minister of Magic boomed, looking a little worn through. "I was Slytherin Prefect too, you know, as I'm sure you were Lucius, but never quite got my bearings on the quidditch pitch, not all of us are sportsmen, eh?" he said, nudging Mr. Oblansk who looked thoroughly perturbed.

Carolina lost track of the conversation at this point as she caught the eye of someone she truly did not expect to see in the Minister's box.

Two rows in front of her, and about eight seats down the aisle was Fred Weasley who had raised his hand and opened his mouth in greeting, about to yell…

Carolina quickly brandished her wand and using non-verbal magic, sent a silencing charm at the redhead, whose mouth instantly slapped shut. She tried to communicate with him, by almost imperceptibly shaking her head and frowning, that this wasn't the time nor place to display their friendship.

Nervously, she looked over at her father and Marcus as they all took their seats hoping to Merlin that they hadn't seen the interaction.

They hadn't, as both were still involved in a conversation with a Malfoy. Carolina slumped into her seat and let out a breath. She chanced a glance back over to the Weasleys. It seemed Fred had gotten his twin, seated to his right to take off the silencing charm, as they were now whispering to each other rather heatedly. On the other side of Fred sat another redhead-one she didn't recognize, but believed to be an older brother. He had messy red hair, a stockier, tanner build, and bruises and scrapes along his arms. Next to him was a middle aged man, with balding red hair, who Carolina assumed to be Mr. Weasley. Next to George was their younger brother, then Harry Potter, the their muggleborn friend who had used Carolina's Magical Creature Law book, the weasley's youngest sibling, a little girl with the same flaming red hair, and then another brother-quite a bit older with long hair and a pierced ear. Carolina eyed him appreciatively: not many of her male peers at Hogwarts dared grow their hair out, but his looked rather handsome. Next to him, just down the line was Percy, who was seated next to… a house elf? Carolina furrowed her brows in confusion… Did the Weasley's bring a house elf with them? From what her brother had said over the years, she didn't think they were wealthy enough to afford one.

Carolina opened up the program that had been passed to her upon entering the stadium. It appeared that before the actual game commenced, each team would be allowed one performance by their mascot.

"And that is my daughter, Carolina," Carolina abruptly looked up upon hearing her name. "Certainly not the quidditch prodigy like her brother, but one family can only be so lucky…"

"Pleased to meet you!" a man with thinning blonde hair and a boyish grin said. He was too far away from her to shake her hand, so Carolina just smiled and nodded. He looked rather crazed.

"I'm sure Marcus hasn't mentioned it, humble boy that he is, but he was just drafted to play for the Falmouth Falcons! Any words of wisdom from a former quidditch star, Ludovic?"

"The Falcons, eh? Rough team, they are!" the man responded.

"I reckon they play with heart," her brother shot back, a not-quite genuine grin plastered on his face, masking his normally disgusted expression.

Carolina frowned. Was her brother sucking up to this man?

"Heart is right, my boy!" the man called Ludo said.

"And they needed it, to beat the Wasps back when you played, Mr. Bagman," her brother continued.

That made sense. Ludo Bagman was the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry, and probably a very important person for her brother to know, if he really had been drafted to the Falcons.

"Sorry, but I really must get to my seat; I am commentating, you know," Bagman shot her brother another boyish grin and strutted back to the center of the Minister's box, stopping briefly along the way to chat with Mr. Weasley.

Carolina turned back to her program, curious as to what the Bulgarian Mascot would be. She had a hunch what creatures would represent Ireland but…

"Welcome witches and wizards alike to the four hundred, twenty second Quidditch World Cup! If you all will turn your attention to the Quidditch pitch… might I present the Bulgarian mascots…" Carolina looked over at Bagman, wondering why his speech had trailed off. He had a roguish smile, and a glazed look about his eyes. Strange.

Carolina directed her gaze down to the pitch. There, dancing in the middle of the grass, were about thirty figures, all women with sleek, shiny blonde hair. She squinted. They had rather pointed features, but were quite beautiful nonetheless. But these women, they were the mascots for Bulgaria?

She spun her head around, about to ask her father what was going on, but stopped when she saw a similar dazed look on his face. In fact, she had never seen her father look so longingly at anything… or so placid. And her brother! Marcus had stood up in his seat, his hand over his heart and seemed to be muttering promises into the open air.

Carolina looked back down at the women. Curious…

Suddenly, an idea came to her. "Oh! They're veela!" she said to no one in particular, certain that none of the men around her would pay any attention.

"Psst!" Carolina broke her gaze away from the women at the noise, and looked around. "Psst!" she heard again. Her eyes darted in the direction of the noise.

Down the row, and in front of her, turned around in his seat, grinning at her, was Fred Weasley. It seemed they were some of the only sober, sentient ones left in their box.

Carolina glared at him and shook her head. Couldn't he understand the trouble he'd cause her if her father caught them communicating?

"Madam Prefect!" she heard him whisper and she turned away from him, rolling her eyes and slumping lower in her seat. These men were useless, she decided. Distracted by the mere hint of beauty, unable to take a cue. She shot a stinging hex at her brother's knee for good measure, knowing that with so much magic around her, the ministry wouldn't pick up underage magic, and hoping it would knock Marcus out of his ridiculous stupor. He fell back in his seat, looking around as if he didn't know where he was. Carolina fought the urge to roll her eyes again. Still… she felt the sides of her mouth curl up into a satisfied smile. Fred hadn't been looking at the Veela. He'd been looking at her.

* * *

Carolina yawned and stretched her arms above her head. She placed a bookmark in 'Quidditch Through the Ages' and closed it, placing it on the small coffee table in front of her. It was late, the moon and stars had been visible for a while now, and her father and Marcus were still in the next tent over, drinking with the Malfoys.

The Quidditch match had been quite exciting, in her opinion, and it had moved a great deal faster than any match she'd ever seen. If she was sure of anything after watching the Bulgarian and Irish teams nearly pummel each other into nonexistence, it was that Marcus would never be good enough to make the English National team. And despite her desires to be a better person, that fact, and that fact alone had put her in a rather gleeful mood after the match. Now though, she was rather annoyed.

It was getting quite late and it was rather irresponsible of her father to leave her alone in a field of generally rowdy, international sporting fans. Furthermore, little did she enjoy admitting it to herself, she was rather scared to fall asleep without their presence. She stood up and exited the tent, fully intent on dragging at least Marcus back.

When she pulled open the tent flaps, stepping out into the moonlight, her ears were met with a cacophonous roar. It was sensory overload. People were running around and yelling, and not in the cheerful way they had been earlier; there was fear in the air. Flashes of light lit up the sky as a few tents not to far away were ignited in flames. More screams followed and Carolina dashed back inside. It was strange; her father must have cast an impervious charm on the tent, for as soon as she was inside, the noises ceased. Nevertheless, she grabbed her wand and tore out the doorway again, bounding over to the Malfoy's tent.

She ripped open the flaps but it was completely empty. Carolina felt terror race through her insides as her heart began to beat overtime. She was alone. There was no one here she knew, and she was in the middle of what seemed to be a rather violent riot.

Her eyes quickly scanned the crowd. Should she stay put? Hope that her father returned from wherever he had gone off to? In the distance, she could see bodies being levitated and spun around in dizzying circles above the fleeing crowds. They seemed to be moving closer to her. But a few rows away, the fire had spread to other tents and was creeping closer as well, impervious to the many 'aguamenti' spells attacking it. She panicked, before taking off running away from the fire. If the full grown wizards' spells weren't working, surely hers would not suffice either.

It was total chaos. Carolina had a difficult time running, as bodies hurdled into her, knocking the wind out of her chest, until one particularly large wizard came trampling into her, knocking her to the ground. She cried out in pain as another frantic quidditch fan tripped over her face. She quickly stood up, her legs shaking, and her eyes darting around her.

"Damnit, think," she whispered to herself as the levitating bodies and jeers that followed them edged their way over. She looked around for a way out of their path, and backtracked until she was on the edge of the woods separating the campground from the stadium.

Her knuckles were white as she clutched her wand, and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. All of the tiredness from a few minute ago had dissipated, replaced by terror.

"Flint? You alright?" Carolina whipped her head around. Standing about ten paces away, and slightly out of breath was George Weasley. Her eyes widened, unsure how to respond and he turned around and called over his breath. "Oi! Fred, Gin, hold up, it's Flint!"

Not a moment sooner had he called out than his twin came racing over, clutching his little sister's hand tightly. The younger Weasley looked just about as petrified as Carolina felt, but seemed to be putting on a braver face, holding her wand out tightly.

"Carolina," Fred breathed, letting go of his sister's hand and stepping closer to Carolina. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Carolina shook her head, afraid that if she opened her mouth, the frightened tears she was holding back would betray how scared she felt.

"You sure?" Fred raised his hand and gently brushed his thumb across Carolina's cheekbone. She winced in pain; that was exactly where the foot had collided with her face. A bruise must have been beginning to form.

Carolina nodded, again finding it too difficult to speak.

"Take your filthy hand off my sister, Weasle!" Carolina heard from behind her. Emerging from the forest were Draco and Marcus, looking resolutely calm and unperturbed by the general chaos. He slowly raised his wand as Fred stepped back.

"Just offering assistance, Flint, don't get your panties in a knot." Fred's wand was out now too, pointing at Marcus.

"And why would she need _your_ assistance?" Marcus growled back.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe you hadn't noticed but there are some lunatics on the loose, levitating muggles?" Fred took a step closer to Carolina, and from the corner of her eye, she saw George step in front of Ginny, wand in hand as well.

Fred opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted by Draco, who stepped forward, twirling his wand. "And why do you think they'd go after her?"

Marcus sent a nasty grin to Carolina, before adding on, "Muggles and mudbloods first, then bloodtraitors like you, Weasle."

"And surely her father wouldn't attack his little girl, now would he?" Draco added smugly.

Carolina felt her jaw drop open. She suddenly realized that Draco and Marcus had been itching to drop this piece of information as soon as they had found her, structuring the conversation to lead to this moment.

"That's your father out there, is it?" Fred accused Carolina, pointing in the direction of the din.

Carolina gulped, uncertain of what to say. Both Fred and George were glaring at her now, and even their little sister was giving her the nastiest look she could muster.

"Come here, Carolina," Marcus demanded, gesturing the ground next to her. "I'll apparate you home."

Carolina looked back to Fred, begging him with her eyes to understand that she couldn't have known. Sure, her family was an old pureblood line and believed in keeping their own blood line pure, but she had never believed her father capable of torturing a muggle family... but Fred seemed just as unable to read her wordless expressions as he had in the Quidditch stands earlier that evening. Unable, or perhaps unwilling this time, as he continued to look at her with disdain, his eyes glinting angrily in the starlight.

Carolina felt her feet move towards Marcus, knowing that she just wanted this ordeal to be over. That more than anything, she wanted to be home and away from it all.

"Mum won't be too happy about this, not very pretty is it?" Marcus said, inspecting her cheek. Carolina closed her eyes, as hot pain seared over her skin again. Maybe this was all just a terrible dream.

"Come on, Fred." When Carolina opened her eyes again, George was tugging on his brother's sleeve, pulling him to walk away. "I told you, you couldn't trust her."

Carolina felt her brother grip her wrist tightly, wand raised.

"All you Slytherins are the same," Fred snarled at them, before spitting on the ground at her feet.

But that was the last thing Carolina saw, as the sucking, twisting sensation of apparition overcame her, and she allowed herself to be willingly whisked away, back to the comfort of their London townhouse.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _So, this chapter was one of my favorites (and one of the hardest) to write so far! Had to do a bit of research because I didn't remember every detail about the Quidditch World Cup, but hopefully the events are pretty true to the book! Obviously, things are changing in the wizarding world and relationships will be effected too. What did you all think? Please let me know because this was such an important chapter for me as a writer! And again, thanks for the favorites/follows and especially the reviews!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

"I heard your brother got drafted by the Falmouth Falcons!" Delia whispered across the table to Carolina, not caring that Professor Dumbledore was enumerating the rules and regulations for new school year.

"Have you met any of his teammates? Are they fit?" Abigail cut in, before Carolina could respond to Delia.

Carolina shook her head and pursed her lips, refusing to talk over the headmaster.

Delia rolled her eyes. "Carolina, we've heard these rules a million times before, surely you can tell us something about them…"

"Shh!" Carolina sushed them, raising a finger to her lips. Professor Dumbledore had paused talking and was peering out into the crowd of students, looking as if he had something important to say.

"Why couldn't he have made Morgana prefect—you'd be a lot more fun without that bloody badge," Abigail whispered to her sharply.

"This year Hogwarts will play host to two other wizarding schools—Beauxbatons and Durmstrang—as our three academies engage in a timeless tradition… The Tri-Wizard Tournament!" Dumbledore boomed out, causing any and all students who had been dozing off after a hearty welcome back meal to sit up straight in their seats, their eyes trained on the aging headmaster.

"You're joking!" A voice called out from the Gryffindor table. Carolina recognized it was immediately and glared at the redhead. Of course he would be the one to obnoxiously interrupt the headmaster.

"I am in fact, not joking, Mr. Weasley although I did hear a good one this summer about a..." Dumbledore trailed off, only to be cut off by a loud cough from Professor McGonagall. "No, no better not, continuing on then," he said.

"Due to the grandiosity of the event, the normal inter-house Quidditch cup will be cancelled, but I do believe there will enough entertainment to go around despite this… I expect the students of Hogwarts to welcome our guests into our castle, helping them to feel at home here in a foreign land as we would ourselves desire if we were in their shoes. And let me remind you all that this is a chance to, shall we say, put our best foot forwards, showing the true Hogwarts spirit!" He finished to loud applause, and a few whistles. Students turned to talk amongst themselves excitedly, discussing the revelatory news.

Just then, the enchanted night sky overhead erupted in a heavy clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, making several of the first years jump in their seats. The eruption was followed by the loud creak of the gigantic wooden entry doors slamming shut, and hundreds of heads swiveled around to the back of the hall, staring at the newcomer.

"Ah, Alastor, I was beginning to wonder whether you'd been delayed… welcome!"

The grizzly man standing in the back of the hall made his way up the center aisle, approaching the professors' table. He had an uneven way of walking, almost like a limp, but one foot made a distinct metallic thump as it hit the stone below, Carolina noticed. His whitening hair was disheveled in a wet mess about his face. But the most arresting detail must have been the bright blue eye bulging from his head and swirling around at a dizzying pace. It was so terrible unnatural that Carolina felt herself look away, unable to take in his gruesome, scarred face.

"Albus," the man growled, gruffly gripping hands with the Headmaster after finishing the long walk across the hall.

"Students, may I present to you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alastor Moody!"

Moody? Carolina had read about him when she had been going through her legal section phase in the library. Many of the more recent trials of dark wizards and witches had called him as a witness, as he was often the Auror who had caught them. But the man she had imagined while reading her books looked vastly different from the one standing at the front of the hall. She had imagined a barrel-chested, handsome man in swirling robes… not this… she didn't even have the words for it as she watched his eye swivel to the back of his head, refraining from gagging. But he was one of the best Aurors of his day… If Carolina wanted to work in magical law, surely she would need a recommendation from him as her Professor to get a job in the department. She shivered to herself; how unfortunate that he had to look so… disturbed.

* * *

Carolina sat down next to Adrian who was leaning across the aisle to talk to Miles and Graham.

"Miles, I reckon you'd have made captain this year, if everything was normal," Adrian had been saying, before pausing as he felt Carolina at the desk with him. "Morning, Caro!"

"Morning," she replied sleepily, having stayed up far too late the night before, reading ahead in their defense against the dark arts textbook after her prefect rounds.

"As I was saying… Snape wouldn't give it to Malfoy, he's only been on the team for two years, you're the natural choice." Carolina looked over, mildly interested. Miles looked rather dejected and Graham's brows were furrowed. When he caught her looking, he sent a glare her way.

Carolina quickly turned back around, deciding it was a safer option to investigate the other students taking N.E.W.T. Level Defense Against the Dark Arts. She knew from talking to them last night that Abigail and Delia had dropped the class, and if Graham was sitting with Miles, that probably meant that Cassius hadn't scored high enough on his O.W.L. to continue with the subject. So the only other Slytherin would be… Morgana Bulstrode who was seated in the front row, hands clasped in front of her.

Seated next to her was a Ravenclaw boy with rather bad acne who was sucking on the end of his quill.

The room was actually quite full, seeing as this was a N.E.W.T. level class, and students from each house would be in attendance. There were quite a few Ravenclaws and three Hufflepuffs, the only students missing were…

She heard a raucous bout of laughter echoing in the hallway just as a contingent of seven Gryffindors trotted into the classroom, their conversation in full swing. There were four girls, two of which Carolina knew to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the boy that commentated the matches, and the twins who were grinning, having just cracked some joke. As the group found their seats, the twins' heads turned towards her, perhaps feeling her watchful gaze. Immediately, upon meeting her hopeful eyes, they shot her twin glares and took their seats on the far side of the classroom.

Carolina sighed. It seemed she couldn't catch a break this morning. Montague seemed to be angry at her for no reason, and now Fred was still holding a grudge against her this long after the World Cup?

"Textbooks away!" yelled a voice from the back of the classroom and Carolina heard the distinct thud-step, thud-step. She knew, without having to turn around that their new Professor had finally entered. "We'll be having a practical lesson today!" He finally reached the front of the classroom and turned around with much more agility than Carolina would have credited someone of his age. "Now, your education in this subject has been quite irregular from what I've heard," his eye spun in its socket, making Carolina's stomach twirl. "It's a marvel any of you passed your O.W.L.s at all, with how this class has been taught. I hear however, that Professor Lupin adequately educated you on magical creatures, is that so?" He waited, daring the class to contradict him, or perhaps waiting for any answer at all.

He was met with silence. "Yes, sir," Carolina found herself saying after a moment. She was rather frightened of the man, but couldn't help herself. She had expectations to uphold as the smartest witch in her year. Besides, she wanted him on her good side.

"Your name is?" Professor Moody questioned gruffly.

"Carolina Flint, sir," she replied.

"Flint you say?" Moody snarled. "Related to Filward Flint?"

"He was my grandfather, sir," she said dutifully, uncertain of where this was going.

"And did you ever hear about your grandfather's illegal participation in muggle Capturing sports?"

"He died before I was born, sir." Her father never really talked about his own father. Carolina only knew him from his portrait in their sitting room, which was either dozing or absent the majority of the time. She had known that he had spent the last year of his life in Azkaban, but when she had asked her father about it, he had muttered something about embezzlement. But now that Carolina, thought about it, no one got sent to Azkaban for embezzlement. It was unheard of.

"Well before his death, he claimed to have been put under the Imperius Curse… Didn't help his case though, ended up in Azkaban."

"Rotten family, the lot of them," Carolina heard someone whisper from the far side of the room, and she didn't have to look to know who was talking.

"Now, who can tell me about the Imperius Curse?" Moody continued, as both his magical eye and his normal one darted accusingly around the room.

Carolina slowly raised her hand, determined not to be bullied on account of her familial associations.

"Ms. Flint?"

"It's an unforgivable, sir. It bends the will of the victim to that of the spellcaster, forcing them to do the bidding of whoever put the curse on them," she said.

"Right, now Dumbledore reckons I ought not to show this to you, but I disagree. You have got to be prepared for what's out there. Constant vigilance!" he barked, before grabbing his hip flask and taking a long swig.

Carolina's mouth dropped open, but she quickly corrected herself, hoping the professor hadn't seen. Was he drinking on the job? That was unheard of, and broke about a thousand school policies, _and_ put the students' lives at risk!

"Now…" Professor Moody began, grabbing a large millipede from one of the jars by the classroom window. "The problem with the Imperius Curse is how to tell who is actually under it, and who is using it as an alibi. Caused a fair few problems for the ministry a few years back… Imperio!" He cast the spell on the millipede as various gasps could be heard around the room from the students.

The rest of the lesson proceeded as such, Moody generally awed the students in his tales of being an Auror, while demonstrating the three unforgivables… which Carolina found strange; they weren't set to cover those spells until their seventh year. But it wasn't the subject matter that Carolina found the most beguiling. She couldn't shake that image of the Professor and his hip flask. Surely it was only a handy way to drink gilly water or pumpkin juice, nothing stronger.

After Defense, the students had their lunch break, and Carolina walked with Adrian, Miles and an untalkative Montague towards the great hall.

They walked down the moving staircases to the entry hall only to see the Weasley twins, their commentator friend next to them, surrounded by a gaggle of first, second and third years, squirming around each other to see what the twins were holding.

Carolina squinted her eyes, furrowing her brow. The two redheads had all but sprinted from the Defense room ten minutes ago, and here they were now, loitering around the Great Hall? Something was up.

"Puking Pastilles! Fever Fudge!" One twin yelled out over the clamoring students.

"Get them before they're gone!" The other followed.

"Looking for a way out of class? Look no further!"

"Only three sickles a piece!"

"Exactly what is going on here?" Carolina questioned, her hands on her hips, strutting up to the duo. The younger students turned to look at her, slightly frightened; a few even ran off.

"None of your business, Flint," Fred said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Carolina felt her chest fill up with a hot, bubbling rage. So he was using her last name now?

"It actually is my business, _Weasley_ ," she emphasized. "I believe students are banned from selling or buying anything on school grounds. Twenty points from Gryffindor, and detention, both of you!"

She didn't wait to hear their protestations, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and storming away. She was right, it was against school rules, but her punishment had been harsher than she would have normally deemed fair for first time offenders. But Fred was being such a git. He deserved it, she reassured her self.

"Carolina, you are my hero," Adrian said throwing his arm over her shoulders.

"I only wish I'd thought to do that first," Miles added on, grinning at her.

Even Montague grinned a sinister smile at her.

"Well, if they made those candies themselves, I really am doing a public service to the school. Who knows what their ingredients are!"

"A real public servant, you are!" Adrian said laughing as they sat down at the Slytherin table and Carolina marveled at her newfound social capital; it seemed she could do no wrong as a prefect as long as she was deducting points from Gryffindors. Now, all her classmates wanted to be her friend.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** WOW, thank you all so much for the reviews and support you have been showing the story! I absolutely love hearing from you all and it's definitely inspiring me to write quicker! :-) Hope you liked this chapter, even though it wasn't as exciting as the previous one!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

"Carolina, come on!" Abigail whined from the doorway to the dormitory

"Yes, yes, just one minute," Carolina said, straightening her uniform in their bathroom mirror, before running a comb through her thick hair, attempting to tame it. She had only just put her bag down after a full day of classes and now all the students were expected in the courtyard to welcome their foreign guests. And it was especially important for her to appear her best, as according to the Head Boy and Girl, prefects were essentially the Hogwarts liaisons, showing a good face and welcoming the newcomers.

"Let's go already!" Carolina heard Delia call from down the stairs. She quickly put her comg away and scampered across the room to follow Abigail out the door.

"Coming!" She called down the stairs.

Delia was standing in the common room with Adrian, Miles and Cassius, with a distasteful look on her face, probably due to a raunchy joke Miles had said at which the two other boys were now laughing.

"Right, we can go now," she cut across them. They exited the common room, and hurriedly made their way up the corridors and staircases.

"I think I'd quite like to enter the tournament," Cassius said to them after the brief debate between Abigail and Delia about which school would have fitter boys ended in mutual agreement that both would be good additions to the school year.

"Ooooh!" Delia simpered, "you definitely should."

"I've heard Diggory's planning to enter," Carolina added.

"Oh, he's so handsome!" Abigail squealed.

"But a bit soft, no? I reckon he doesn't have the backbone to compete," Miles said deridingly.

"And you think you do?" Carolina sneered at him.

He scowled at her. "More than you, that's for sure," he shot back.

"Kids, kids," Adrian said jokingly, "no need for bickering!" earning a laugh from Abigail, Delia, and Cassius.

In truth, Carolina had been thinking quite a bit about entering the tournament. Magically speaking, she was the best option in their year; she was more talented, more resourceful, more ambitious than any of her classmates. But most of all, the thrill of preceding her brother in notoriety had stayed in the back of her mind since the tournament had been announced. What better way to finally prove to her parents and to her classmates that _she_ was the better Flint, not just Marcus's silly little sister, than to win an international wizarding tournament?

This thought was interrupted as they finally arrived in the student-filled courtyard. The entire school had come out and it was rather crowded. Carolina followed as Cassius and Miles elbowed smaller students unluckily standing in their path as they made their way over to where Graham Montague stood, towards the front of the crowd.

"Have we missed anything?" Abigail asked excitedly.

"Hardly," Graham responded sounding bored. "Only the Gryffindors acting especially obnoxious." Carolina followed his line of sight to a group of younger students who seemed to be daring each other to see who could throw their fanged whizbee the highest.

Carolina rolled her eyes. Surely they weren't stupid enough to bring a banned object to an all school event? If so, they deserved having it confiscated.

She walked up to them. "Fanged Whizbees aren't allowed on school grounds. I will have to confiscate that," she said holding out her hand expectantly.

"Sure, here you go," one of the students said smartly while her companions all groaned behind her and she handed over the Whizbee.

"Merlin's bloody—" Carolina stopped herself from exclaiming any expletive too loudly as she nursed her hand, the Fanged Whizbee discarded on the ground. It had bit her! She inspected her palm to find two rows of tiny teeth marks that were gradually pooling blood. She glared at the girl, gripped her wand and vanished the whizbee. "Ten points from Gryffindor," she snarled, before marching back to her housemates.

"You alright there?" Adrian asked upon her return.

"I. Hate. Gryffindors." She growled. It wasn't untrue, she thought as she nonverbally healed her hand. Any warmth she had felt towards the house had been completely destroyed by Fred Weasley's biased, higher than thou, totally misdirected and totally irrational treatment of her. Gryffindors weren't brave or courageous. They were short sighted miscreants and hypocritical bullies, believing they were so tolerant and good when really, they were just as prejudiced as any other house. At least Slytherins didn't pretend to like you and then turn on you!

"Look! Look!" A voice in the crowd called out. "It's a flying house!"

Carolina's eyes shot towards the sky. That's certainly what appeared to be rocketing towards the castle.

Several older students corrected the younger one who had called out that he must have been mistaken, that houses couldn't fly.

"Obviously powerful magic could make a house fly," she shot at them, now in a foul mood.

It wasn't a house however, but a giant gilded carriage gliding through the sky, pulled by humongous, winged palomino horses that seemed to gallop gracefully upon nothing at all.

Various "oohs" and "ahs" rippled through the crowd of students as they watched wide eyed with bated breath as the carriage and horses hurdled towards the lawn in front of the school. Seemingly against gravity, the carriage landed lightly and the Hogwarts students erupted into applause at the spectacle.

"Welcome!" Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed across the crowd, calming the screams and joyous clapping. "To our guests, the students of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their divine Headmistress, Madame Maxime."

The carriage doors swung open and students slowly began to trickle out. They were clad light blue silk robes and many of the girls wore skirts without tights. From Carolina's vantage point, they didn't look too ecstatic to have arrived; many of them were shivering and holding onto each other, looking warily at the Hogwarts student body.

"You'd think they'd dress for the weather here," Carolina commented leaning over to Adrian.

"I quite like how they're dressed," Adrian responded lazily, obviously ogling the girls as they scuttled past, hurrying into the warmth of the castle.

"Pervert," Carolina muttered, elbowing him in the side to which he seemed to take no notice.

Suddenly, the quiet conversations around her were interrupted by a cacophonous sucking noise, as if someone had amplified the sound of a drain being pulled out from a full bath tub.

"It's the squid!" A student nearby called out, and Carolina craned her neck above the crowds to peer at the lake. Indeed, something seemed to be rising from the dark waters, but it was much stiffer than any giant squid tentacle she had seen. It seemed rather like a telephone pole but no… it shot further out of the water and Carolina instantly recognized it for what it was.

"They traveled by boat!" She exclaimed, "but how…". The Black Lake was just that… a lake, unconnected to any other body of water. It must have taken an immense amount of magic to transport an entire shipful of students between discrete lakes.

Their boat docked besides the old boat house and the Durmstrang students began exiting.

"And now, another warm welcome to the Durmstrang Institute and their Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff!"

"Albus, old friend," Professor Karkaroff said throatily as he clasped hands with Dumbledore.

The Durmstrang students seemed much more at ease than their French counterparts and were wide-eyed as they marveled up at the looming castle above them.

They casually passed through the waving Hogwarts crowd. They were dressed much more smartly, Carolina noted. Their cloaks had fur collars and gold buttons that stood out against their deep, blood red robes.

"Merlin's dangling left bollock…" Miles said, his mouth agape.

"Miles, that's disgusting," Carolina admonished, turning to give him a grimace.

"No, Carolina!" Delia said in a hoarse whisper, grabbing Carolina's arm desperately, as if she were about to faint. "It's Krum! It's Viktor Krum!"

Carolina's eyes snapped forward. Indeed, there he was. The international Quidditch superstar that she had seen take a bludger to the face just two months ago. He was quite shorter than he appeared on his broomstick, Carolina decided. Although she liked his crooked nose. It was rather devil-may-care.

After the Durmstrang contingent passed through the crowd, the Hogwarts students followed suit and passed through the entryway into the Great Hall. The Beauxbatons students had already taken a seat at the front of the Ravenclaw table, huddled around each other miserably, while the Durmstrang students were just sitting down at the Slytherin table.

"Wicked," Carolina heard Adrian say next to her as he, Miles, Graham and Cassius darted forwards in the crowd, pushing first and second years out of the way to find a prime seat next to the foreign students.

"Move it, firstie," Miles said, twirling his wand in his fingers and addressing a first year who had luckily found a seat right next to the group of Durmstrang students containing Krum.

"Why should I?" The first year replied oppositionally. Carolina had to hand it to him. She would never have talked back to a sixth year as an eleven year old.

"Because we'll hex your eyebrows off if you don't," Graham said, glaring at the first year who instantly lost his bravado and scooted down the table, making room for the four boys and Carolina to sit.

"Miles Bletchley," Miles said to the nearest Durmstrang student. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Felix Arvidson," the boy responded in a thick Danish accent, shaking the other boys hands as they introduced themselves. His hand finally stopped in front of Carolina who reached out and took his carefully.

"Carolina Flint," she said, "pleased to meet you," before smiling.

"Draco Malfoy!" Carolina heard as she felt herself getting unceremoniously shoved further down the bench as Draco squeezed in. "We all play on the Slytherin Quidditch team," he added, gesturing to the sixth year boys and himself. "I'm the seeker." He had a smug look on his face and it took Carolina less than two milliseconds to figure out his strategy; he was hoping Krum, who was seated next to Felix, would overhear the talk of quidditch and join the conversation.

His plan backfired however, as Krum, upon hearing the word "Quidditch" seemingly turned away from the boys to discuss something with another Durmstrang student next to him. Miles persevered on, attempting to make conversation with Felix but gave up after realizing that his foreign peer's English was less than adequate for conversation and moodily turned back to the other Slytherins.

"Welcome, again, to our guests!" Dumbledore's voice echoed across the hall, instantly silencing all side conversations. Carolina marveled at how he was able to project his voice so well, seemingly without any spellwork. Or perhaps he did in fact charm his voice beforehand, so subtly that she had never noticed. "May they find all the comfort and hospitality of their former homes in our castle."

Carolina heard a scoff coming from the Beauxbatons contingent. Dumbledore however, seemed to take no notice.

"Unfortunately, due to the mortality rate of the tournament," Dumbledore began, catching everyone's attention once again, "we will be limiting applicants to those students who are of-age—"

"That's rubbish!" Carolina heard the Weasley Twins call out. Interrupting the Headmaster? How crude, Carolina thought, scowling across the hall at them.

Dumbledore seemed unfazed however, his blue eyes continuing to twinkle as he finished his sentence, "who will eventually be selected by an impartial jury…"

Carolina watched as Dumbledore introduced the judges of the tournament and explained how the Goblet of Fire would function without really listening, as it had just washed over her that her plans to finally prove to the school that she was her own person had been foiled. Her seventeenth birthday wasn't until January. She wasn't old enough to participate.

Filch was wheeling out a large golden box—almost like an upright coffin—and Dumbledore was waving his wand as the box melted down to show its contents: a grand sparkling golden goblet. Blue flames leapt up from inside the goblet as Dumbledore swirled his wand in a circle, drawing an age line around it. Carolina decided she didn't want to watch anymore and turned her attention back to the grain of wood making up the Slytherin table, staring moodily down.

Even when the feast began, she refused to make eye contact with her classmates. She wasn't in particularly in good company anyways, she decided, with Draco separating her and Adrian. Not even the particularly sumptuous foreign cuisines that had popped up along the table could lift her mood. Instead of conversing, she pulled out her most recent library find, a muggle novel titled "A Clockwork Orange," that she didn't fully understand, and began reading, though she wasn't able to fully pour her attention into the words, angry as she was.

She left dinner early that evening, storming out of the Great Hall alone and promptly changed into her pajamas and got in bed as soon as she returned to her dorm, too angry to study. Hours later, when Delia, Abigail and Morgana returned to the room, Carolina pretended to be fast asleep, her curtains drawn tightly around her bed.

She couldn't seem to relax enough to find sleep and had been thrashing around in her bed for the better part of the last hour. In her opinion, she was a better witch than probably any of the seventh years, many of whom still struggled with nonverbal spells. She was a prefect and had achieved ten owls, far more than her fellow sixth years whose birthdays happened to fall in September or October. She felt a sharp pain in her gut as she realized that Abigail would be eligible, having celebrated her birthday just last week. _Abigail_ of all people. Who was constantly chewing blowing gum just because her father owned Droobles Best Blowing Gum. The very same Abigail who had once asked her worriedly first year if being a halfblood meant her blood was pink instead of red. She was eligible.

Carolina rolled over and groaned into her pillow, praying that sleep would find her soon enough.

The next morning was Saturday and Carolina, having stayed up in an anxious fit until the early morning slept completely through breakfast. As she made her way down to the great hall, hoping that the food had been left out, a large book tucked under her arm, she noticed that the hallways were uncommonly empty for the weekend.

Upon entering the great hall, she understood why. It seemed that almost all of the Hogwarts students had decided to stay around after breakfast in order to watch and whisper about their peers who were brave enough to drop their name into the goblet's swirling flames. Much to her chagrin, breakfast had been vanished, so she marched over to Adrian and plopped herself down next to him. Hopefully lunch wouldn't be too much later.

"Well, don't you look cheery this morning," Adrian commented, giving Carolina a once over.

"Don't be smart with me, I hardly slept last night," she replied, sending him a sour look.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he joked, before adding: "Miles just put his name in, by the way."

"Marvelous," Carolina said flatly. Miles. Of course, he was almost as dim witted as Abigail. He did well enough in classes but his attention span transformed into that of a goldfish when you placed a pair of moderately well endowed breasts in his visage.

"What are you still doing down here then if he's already applied?" Carolina asked, roughly opening her new book, "The Statute of Secrecy and Other International Treatises," having finished the muggle novel the night before when she couldn't sleep.

"Oh, er—" Adrian mumbled as his cheeks flushed, a fact Carolina would have astutely observed had she not been in such a foul mood. "Just taking in the scenery, you know," he said, averting his gaze from the pretty gaggle of Beauxbatons students who had just put their names into the goblet.

Carolina shot him a quizzical look. "Right then."

Suddenly, the quiet din of the room was broken by joyous shouts.

"Yeah! We've done it!"

"Cooked it up ourselves just this morning!" The crowd around them cheered as the two voices came closer to the front of the hall.

Carolina didn't need to look up from her book to know who was causing the raucous. It was always the same two.

From what she overheard as they discussed amongst their fellow Gryffindors, it seemed that the twins had brewed an aging potion to age them six months older so that they would be eligible to submit their names. Carolina could have told them what she heard another student say, and she looked up this time, recognizing the voice of the young muggleborn—Granger, was it?—as she exasperatedly explained that Dumbledore was in fact, far smarter than the twins' intellect combined.

Of course their potion wouldn't work. Carolina had exhausted the list of possibilities last night as she had laid awake. There was simply no way an underage student would be able to hoodwink an instrument of such immense magical power—and to bypass the spellwork of Albus Dumbledore? They twins had to be stupid.

But now, as she watched, they had already jumped into the circle after drinking the potion as their peers cheered them on. At the same moment, they pulled out scraps of paper, presumably with their names on them, and tossed them into the blue flames. They paused as the goblet seemingly had no effect and a loud applause erupted through the crowd.

Suddenly however, the fire seemed to burst white hot as it shot two flames at each of the boys, casting them outside the age line. They fell gracelessly on top of one another in a heap, and the crowd's cheers turned into jeering laughter.

Even Carolina couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face when white beards sprouted from the two Gryffindor's faces, and their normally bright red hair turned a blinding shade of silver.

"Ha! Serves them right!" Adrian said beside her.

Carolina nodded in agreement, watching as the two boys (who appeared more like old men now) rolled around on the stone floor, fighting with each other.

As her gaze lingered on them, a thought struck her; a memory that she hadn't thought about in months, not since the Quidditch World Cup at least. She knew where the kitchens were, thanks to the two idiots punching the living daylights out of each other. She abruptly stood up.

"As entertaining as this is, I'm off," she told Adrian.

"I think I'll just stay here a while longer," he said slowly. Carolina nodded, and followed his gaze. Perhaps he was the only student in the hall not looking at the troublesome twins, but instead focused on the sky blue robes of the Beauxbatons contingent.

"See you later then" she said, smiling at him. Upon waking up, she hadn't believed that today could have turned out at all well, but seeing Fred and George's plan backfire had put her in a much better mood, and now the promise of a private breakfast had seemingly lifted her foul spirit altogether.

"You could just go talk to her, you know, instead of staring like petrified troll," she winked at Adrian, before slipping through the crowds.

"Imbeciles," she muttered under her breath as she walked by the quarreling Weasley duo, who paused their fighting to glare at her as she passed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

Carolina marched with strict determination to the library. Bloody Potter. Bloody Gryffindors. Bloody Dumbledore. Bloody goblet of bloody fire.

She was fuming with anger. Her insides felt twisted and it was a blessing she didn't bulldoze over any unsuspecting first years on her war path through the corridors.

She had woken up for an early breakfast this morning, unlike the day before, and had decided that a day of studying would hopefully push the turmoil from her mind...

She had hardly believed her own eyes last night as she watched the goblet spew out another name. A fourth champion was completely unheard of. There were only supposed to be three. And an underage wizard at that.

Carolina had scribbled endless lists in her bed, unable to sleep, trying with all of her brain power to figure out the loophole; how a mere fourteen year old could have entered the tournament—and then convinced the goblet to select a fourth name.

And of course, it had to be bloody Potter. Dumbledore's prodigy, Potter. It was so unfair. He didn't deserve this at all. He never deserved anything that came his way, always breaking school rules. She remembered how three years ago Dumbledore had awarded him 50 house points at the end of term feast for some vague reason and had subsequently prevented Slytherin from winning the House Cup.

For a moment, a blazing suspicion crossed her mind. Perhaps it was Dumbledore himself who had entered Potter—he _had_ drawn the age line after all… But why? To bring fame and glory to the already famous boy? To Gryffindor?

It was puzzling, for sure. But more than puzzling, it was angering.

Carolina slammed her book bag onto her usual table, frustrated beyond belief. Madam Pince sent her a sharp look but she paid no mind to the hawkish woman.

She pulled out a parchment of runes she had yet to translate, dipped her quill into her ink pot and stared down at the paper in front of her.

She groaned in frustration; her usually sharp mind didn't seem to be cooperating this morning as the first question forced her to draw a blank. She looked up exasperatedly, scanning the room for something to take her mind off her own incapacity, her anguish, to calm her down.

Two clumps of red hair, huddled together whispering to one another immediately caught her attention. It was entirely suspicious. The Weasley twins wouldn't normally be caught dead sitting in the library. What were they doing here this early?

Just as she was thinking this, one of them peeked his head up and looked around, catching her eye. He glared and ducked back down, whispering to his brother who in turn glanced over at her. They quickly gathered the few pieces of parchment on their desk together and hurried off into the rows of books.

Suspicious indeed, Carolina thought to herself. They were acting rather flighty. She quickly cast a disillusionment charm on herself, scurrying after the duo.

They had disappeared behind the charms aisle and Carolina carefully crept over the adjacent one, before removing a few books from her shelf to peer over at the twins. They were having a rather heated, albeit hushed, discussion.

"You think she heard anything?" Fred asked his brother, his eyes darting down the aisle to check that no other students were in their proximity.

"I don't know… we can't risk it though. You saw how chummy her father was with Bagman. Suppose she found out… you think we should ask?" George replied.

"Definitely not, then she'll get even nosier. Besides, she already thinks she entitled to everybody's business, being a prefect an all."

"Slytherins," George muttered grimly as Fred nodded in agreement.

Carolina bit back a retort. They were obviously talking about her. Who were they to call her entitled?

"I know how to throw her off the trail!" Fred said after a brief pause.

"You think it's time?" His brother asked hesitantly.

"Bloody right it's time. I've been waiting to do this since detention. And it's been brewed for weeks now. She's had it coming," Fred replied. "Did you find out the password?"

"Got a second year to tell me," George smirked. "Easy."

"Right, so tonight then, after her rounds? "

"Tonight!"

Carolina heard their shuffling footsteps as they rounded the corner of the aisle and she pushed herself flat against the shelf of books, before remembering that she had cast a disillusionment charm and unless they looked rather hard, they wouldn't see her.

She let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't been caught eavesdropping again. This really was becoming an unfortunate habit. Although… from what she had heard, they were definitely hiding something. Something to do with Bagman and it sounded rather mischievous. And, if she had interpreted their words right, it sounded as if they were planning to prank her, Carolina thought, feeling a bubble of anxiety build within her. Their pranks on her had never been fun… But, it seemed that this time she had an advantage on them. They would be breaking into the common room… and she would be prepared.

Carolina spent the rest of the Sunday in the library, distracted enough by the twins' antics that her anger about the Triwizard Tournament had subsided slightly, allowing for her to get a bit of studying done.

She had alternated between bouts of complete focus on her essays and homework and fits of distraction where she couldn't stop thinking about the twins' oncoming prank. She had even taken to pacing down the aisles of the enormous library for ten minute intervals, muttering to herself and thinking about the best way to prevent the twins from breaking into the common room.

She couldn't very well just ask for the password to be changed a week and a half earlier than it normally would, then Slytherins might not even be able to enter. She could wait outside the common room and stun them when they appeared… but that was messy and then what would she do with their bodies? And that would look especially fishy… two Gryffindors passed out in front of the entrance to the common room. No, definitely not. If only she knew what they were planning to do, then maybe she could catch them at it and report them.

Her stomach gave a loud growl and she stopped her pacing, glancing at her wrist watch. She'd lost track of time and dinner had started twenty minutes ago. She quickly returned to her table, packed up her papers and quills and hurried to the Great Hall.

The tables were full by the time she arrived and she thought she saw Roger Davies, her fellow prefect and Ravenclaw quidditch captain, shoot her a disdainful look as she scurried down the length of the Slytherin table to where Adrian was seated.

"Budge over, Ades," she said, plopping herself rather disgracefully down on the bench between him and Cassius.

"Oi!" Cassius said through a mouthful of potatoes, annoyed at being shoved to the side. "Sorry," he quickly apologized to the Durmstrang student who he had been pushed into, offering a shrug.

"What's going on?" Adrian questioned Carolina, noticing her frantic look.

"I overheard those blasted Weasley twins planning to break into the Slytherin Common Room tonight!" she said leaning over and whispering hurriedly into his ear.

"Really?" Adrian said, his interest peaking.

"Hello Carolina," a voice said from across the table to her. She looked up feeling confused; Adrian's friends normally didn't greet her so cordially. "How you are?"

It was the Durmstrang boy from last night… She offered him a tight lipped smile, unable to remember his name. What was it? Phoenix?

"Well, thank you," she replied, fighting the urge to turn back to Adrian and continue to discussing what she had heard. She was a prefect after all and needed to be hospitable to their guests. "And you?"

The boy took a breath in, his eyes looking around, his mind obviously looking for the right English words. "Good also. I am seeing Hogwarts is very bigger than is Durmstrang."

"Is it?" Carolina asked in a high pitched voice as Adrian elbowed her in the side. "That's quite interesting." She smiled again at him, before whipping her head around to Adrian again. Unfortunately she had to prioritize the impending attack on the Slytherins over social niceties.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, wide eyed.

"I don't know! I don't even know what they're planning to do. Something involving a potion, but oh—it's so frustrating! If only I know what they're going to do with it."

"Maybe you should tell Professor Snape?" Adrian offered. "Or Miles?"

"And what could Bletchley do that I couldn't?" Carolina snarled. Why should she deter to Miles, they were _both_ made prefect after all. "And Snape wouldn't be able to do anything since they haven't actually broken any rules yet. Do you think… Do you think they'd poison me?" Her face blanched.

Adrian stared across the hall at the Gryffindor and Carolina followed his gaze. The twins were laughing uproariously at their little brother who had somehow gotten gravy in his hair.

"They're not smart enough to brew a poison," Adrian replied. Maybe, Carolina thought. They certainly hadn't achieved an O on their potions O.W.L. as neither had joined her in the N.E.W.T. level class. Still, they were much brighter than her fellow Slytherins gave them credit for being. And they had created those sickness-inducing candies. What if they were going to slip one to her while she slept? What if it made her ill and she choked on her own vomit? Her mind reeled with grotesque ideas of what they could inflict upon her.

Carolina didn't talk much for the remainder of dinner, and spent most of it slowly chewing her food and considering her own mortality.

By the end of dinner, her logical mind had resigned her to the fact that there was nothing she could do preemptively to stop the Weasleys from breaking and entering, short of hexing them in open public and that wasn't a step she was willing to take. She wouldn't risk not becoming Head Girl for anything.

So, she had decided the best point of action would be to wait and see. She would stay up late and be ready for them. If she was ready and awake, they wouldn't be able to do anything. She was still better at spellwork. She twirled her wand absently between her fingers. She also decided it was better if it never left her pocket from now on. Was she acting paranoid? She eyed Professor Moody at the staff table appreciatively as his magical eye whirled in its socket, taking in every sudden movement. 'Constant vigilance' didn't seem like too bad of a motto to follow.

She stood up from the bench, unable to eat any more, anticipation filling her belly.

"Goodbye, Carolina," the Durmstrang boy said across from her again, offering another smile as she made to leave.

"Yeah, see you…" she trailed off, mentally cursing for not listening to his conversation with his friends to figure out his name. Oh well, she had bigger fish on her plate, as it were. She smiled back before strutting out of the hall. She had to make it look like she wasn't on to the twins' plan.

So, it was with bated breath that Carolina forced herself to stay awake after her tiresome prefect rounds that evening. She wanted witnesses, so she decided that waiting up in her dorm room instead of the empty common room was more practical.

And she wanted to catch them off guard, so she had turned off her reading lamp, changed into her pajamas and was now lying in her bed, her eyes wide open, wand clasped in her right hand, staring fixedly at the door through the partially drawn bed hangings.

Morgana Bulstrode's snores were echoing through the dark room and Carolina found herself wishing that she could be as peaceful as her, without the knowledge that she was about to be forced to hex two meddlesome Gryffindors.

Just as she was thinking this, the door to her room creaked open just wide enough for a body to slip through. She quickly lowered her eyelids just enough so that she could still see through them, but was surprised not to see the two familiar heads of red hair enter her sanctuary. The twins must be as good at disillusionment charms as she… This made things even more difficult… she had no idea where in the room they were and subsequently hitting them with a hex would be near impossible.

She watched, her eyes widening slightly as the door to their shared bathroom opened and the light inside turned on, before the door shut quickly once again. So the prank was tampering with her bathroom… maybe they were adding their potion to her toothpaste and all her teeth would fall out. Maybe they were going to make her toilet explode when she sat on it.

Five minutes later, the doorway opened again and the light switched off. Carolina's eyes scanned the empty space until the door to dormitory opened and closed again. She let out a sigh of relief. Whatever practical joke they had planned for her would be much easier avoided than she had thought it would be. After all, she was a prefect; she wasn't dependent on using the dormitory bathrooms.

Carolina awoke the following morning in bright spirits, and it was with equally bright spirits, a large grin plastered on her face that she skipped down the Hogwarts corridors after breakfast to her first class, Transfiguration. Her hair was clean, her uniform was perfect, her skin was clean and flawless and she had enjoyed quite a relaxing bathing experience in the prefects bathroom that morning. She really would have to make a habit out of bathing there at least once a week, it was so luxurious.

But most of all, she was ecstatic about the fact that she had escaped Fred and George's prank, especially after she had talked with Morgana at breakfast that morning.

Abigail and Delia didn't even show up for breakfast, Morgana had told her, and had apparently headed straight to the hospital wing, and weren't taking any visitors. As Morgana told it, after showering this morning, the two girls' skin had turned a bright, lurid green and become scaly. Carolina cackled amusedly. Of course, she would have been outraged had she not had the good fortune of overhearing the twins' plans, but as she had outsmarted them, hearing that they had somehow substituted the soap in the girls' shower with something akin to a snake-infused longer-lasting polyjuice potion was rather amusing.

Morgana's hands were green and scaly, having apparently used the soap to wash her hands this morning but when Carolina asked her why she wasn't affected, the dull witch merely shrugged.

"I didn't shower this morning. Only at night."

And so, Carolina entered the Transfiguration classroom early with a grand smile on her face.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall!" she said jovially, taking her normal seat.

The professor gave her a tight lipped, but amused smile, before returning to sorting the papers on her desk. "Good morning, Miss Flint."

"Lovely day today!" Carolina responded brightly. That wasn't true at all. The ceiling in the Great Hall had been swarming with storm clouds and there was a distinct draft in the corridors, but Carolina had paid it no mind.

McGonagall gave her a bemused look as more students started to trickle into the classroom. Carolina pulled out her notebook and quill, before turning around in her seat to wave at Adrian as he walked in, gesturing him over to sit with her.

Before he got a chance however, someone else angrily plopped down at her desk.

"I was saving that seat," Carolina said primly, crossing her arms.

"Too bad," Fred snarled.

Carolina pursed her lips and turned away from the boy. Was he angry at her? Surely he had no reason to be, seeing he was the one who had attempted the prank in the first place.

"Why aren't you in the hospital wing like your roommates?" Fred demanded, his eyes focused on the side of her face.

"I don't know what you mean," Carolina said, faking innocence. A smirk threatened to burst her straight face, the corners of her lips tugging upwards.

"Oh come off it, I'm not stupid!" Fred responded angrily.

"Well neither am I," she shot back.

"Oh, that much is clear. You just love to remind everyone how much _better_ you are, don't you, Flint." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement.

She glared back at him finally. "Well, I outsmarted you two, didn't I?"

Fred eyed her hair, still wet from the long bath this morning. "How'd you do it?" he mumbled accusingly. "How'd you do it when it worked on the other two?"

"And why would I tell you?" Carolina sneered, glad that he didn't seem to know about or remember the Prefects' Bathroom.

"I don't know what I thought I would get out of talking to you," Fred said exasperatedly, turning back to look up at the front of the classroom, as McGonagall had finally stood up and was walking to the blackboard. "You're bloody aggravating."

"Then don't talk to me," Carolina whispered back stingingly as she too turned her attention to the front, her quill in hand, poised to take notes.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

Carolina stood nervously towards the front of the queue. This seemed like a barbaric teaching mechanism, in her opinion, and she wasn't at all excited to have it practiced on her.

"Imperio!" Professor Moody shouted at Roger Davies, who had bravely (or perhaps foolishly, in Carolina's eyes) volunteered to be first in line.

There were gasps from those ahead of her in line as Roger went straight as a board. Moody seemed to be mentally communicating with him, his normal eye trained on the prefect, while his magical one observed the other students in line.

Suddenly, Roger's arms shot up. He paused in this position, before closing his eyes, and executing a perfect back handspring.

A few students laughed and ooh'ed in awe, while others clapped animatedly. Carolina glared at them. Their Hogwarts professor was practicing an unforgivable curse on a student. And her fellow students were dumb enough to applaud him? This was highly illegal and made Carolina extremely nervous.

Professor Moody lifted the curse and Roger blinked stupidly, as if he was seeing things for the first time.

"You have to be able to defend yourselves!" Moody barked. "Johnson, you're next!"

The class quieted down as a very pretty, black girl that Carolina recognized as one of the Gryffindor chasers stepped up. She stared at Moody resolutely, as if daring him to do what she knew he would anyways.

"Imperio!" The scarred professor yelled again and the girl instantly had a calm look flit across her face. Suddenly, she jumped onto one of the desks and spun around in a pirouette. Moody lifted the curse and Johnson too had that stupid, blinking expression on her face.

"Pucey!" Adrian, who had been standing in front of Carolina nervously stepped forward. "Go easy on me, sir," he joked, although obviously nervous still.

"Do you think the Dark Lord ever went easy on anyone, Pucey?" Moody barked back.

Adrian quickly shook his head, and gulped.

"Imperio!" Adrian's face didn't go blank as instantly as Johnson's had. Instead, it was scrunched up in a combination of fear and anger, but after ten seconds or so, he too joined ranks as Moody had him do a series of somersaults across the stone floor.

"It wasn't too bad," Adrian told Carolina as he walked past her.

Carolina cringed and reluctantly stepped forward. Professor Moody hadn't even prepared them to fight the spell. He'd merely talked about what they could do and had said gruffly "Mind over matter, that's what's important," at the beginning of class.

"Flint," he said, "Ready?"

Carolina nodded, staring hard at his false eye that was no longer roving over the other students but was focused solely on her.

"Imperio!" He called and suddenly time felt as if it was standing still. Carolina looked around, but the Professor had seemingly disappeared. In fact, all of her classmates who had been anxiously standing in line behind her had disappeared as well. She was completely alone in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. Alone, except for the voice that seemed to be originating from the room itself.

"Tap dance," the voice hissed, "tap dance…"

Tap dancing? Carolina shook her head, feeling mighty confused. She didn't want to do that. Why was she supposed to tap dance?

"Tap dance," the voice encouraged again, "just do it…"

She didn't want to. Tap dancing was silly but, somehow, it really felt like the thing to do.

"Tap dance!" The voice was more commanding now and Carolina felt her right foot lift up off the floor and begin to clack against the cold stone. She looked down as only one foot danced about. She wanted it to stop, she really did, but she couldn't control her foot. It was terrifying, and felt like her body was no longer hers. Her vision suddenly blurred and Carolina found herself staring back up at the professor.

"Good effort, Flint," Moody said gruffly. "Did you see how she didn't fully engage? That's how you do it. Why don't you take a seat, Flint?"

He patted Carolina on the shoulder roughly and she felt her knees buckle beneath her, falling into a conveniently placed chair. She felt weak, exhausted even and was suddenly very glad to be seated.

Carolina continued in a dream like state for the rest of class, watching as her classmates tried to throw off the Imperius Curse. Most weren't able to fight it, while a select few had, like her, resisted to some extent. It was strange; she watched as parts of their bodies seemed to move without them. Montague had injured himself when Professor Moody had very likely commanded him to jump off a chair—which he had started to do, but instead of allowing his legs to lower and land, Graham had kept them locked up towards his body so that he fell like a cannonball on the hard floor. He had quickly been sent to the Hospital Wing for Madam Pomfrey to investigate a tailbone fracture.

When the bell rang out, signaling the end of class, Carolina could barely lift herself out of the seat, she was so completely exhausted. Adrian helped gather her bag, although he too was looking significantly worse for wear.

The following day, Carolina's body felt sore, as if had participated in some very labor intensive sport, but she still pulled herself out of bed. Today was the first task of the Triwizard Tournament and, although she was rather bitter about the unfairness of the event, she was still quite interested in attending.

"I can barely walk," Carolina complained to Adrian upon finding him waiting in the common room for her to walk to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"You're telling me," Adrian replied grumpily.

"What right did he have to do that?" Carolina accused. "It's completely pedagogically deplorable, never mind the unsound ethics!"

Adrian shot her a work. "You know, you're the only person I know whose words get longer the angrier you get."

"I'm going to ignore that," Carolina said, briefly remembering the time that Fred Weasley had told her she talked like a professor. "Do you think I should report him?"

Adrian shrugged. "You're the one that wants to work at the ministry, it's up to you."

"I know, that's what makes this so frustrating!" Carolina said, angrily tossing her hair behind her shoulder as she sat down across from Adrian.

"Hello, Carolina!" The Durmstrang boy said from slightly down the table. He smiled jovially and waved.

"Er—hi," Carolina responded with a slight wave. He had been saying 'hello' every time they crossed paths for the past few weeks. She still couldn't remember his name for the life of her, and when she asked Adrian and Miles, they responded by taking the mickey out of her for it.

She really didn't know what she had done to deserve his attention.

"So you've got a stalker," Adrian whispered casually across the table, nodding his head in the direction of the blonde boy.

"I have not got a stalker," Carolina replied primly.

"Who would waste their time stalking you? All you do is read and attend prefect meetings," Miles said, dropping into the seat next to Carolina, earning a chuckle from Adrian.

"What? It was accurate," he said after receiving a withering look from Carolina.

Carolina sent him a glare and refused to speak for the rest of breakfast.

By the time they were heading outside to the humongous arena that had been set up by the edge of the forest for the champions, she had broken her silence and was chatting away amiably with Adrian as they pontificated over what the task would include.

"Trolls or giants, I'm sure of it," Adrian said enthusiastically. "Boy, would I love to see Potter squished by a giant…"

"Well there's got to be more to it than that, right? Surely it must involve some intellectual work as well? Not just stunning a troll? A third year could do that." They had now reached the stands and were beginning to climb the creaky wooden stairs.

"I think you give too much credit to Hogwarts' third years, Caro. Just because you can stun something while blindfolded and suspended in mid-air doesn't mean everyone else can!"

"I think there will be a goal besides just defeating a creature… a puzzle of some sort, maybe," Carolina continued.

"Merlin's bloody beard!" Exclaimed Adrian as they finally reached the top of the staircase and were now looking down into the arena.

"Hm, I suppose that is harder than a troll," Carolina said casually. Beneath them, crouched upon a boulder, was a humongous green dragon. A Common Welsh Green, if Carolina's assessment was correct. She had shoes made from one.

"You know, I've never been so happy to be underage. I was going to put my name in, after all," Adrian said, eying the beast with a look of fear.

"Well, I'm not," Carolina replied grumpily. Dragons! Dragons were the first task. She would have been expertly prepared, considering her father's line of work. A complete waste of her talents, this competition was. "Bloody Dumbledore," she cursed under her breath. "Where do you want to sit?"

"How about over there," Adrian said pointing towards a group of Slytherin seventh years. It looked as if Delia and Abigail were already seated with them.

Carolina nodded and made to push her way through the crowds when a voice caught her attention.

"Place your bets! Place your bets!" It was calling.

"Four champions versus four dragons!"

"Will Diggory get incinerated? Krum burnt to a crisp?"

"Place your bets! Place your bets!"

Carolina crossed her arms. They couldn't go a day without breaking at least one school rule could they?

"Boys," she said crossly, marching through the younger students to confront the Weasley twins. "I hope you know that gambling on school grounds is strictly forbidden."

"Well, we aren't technically gambling, are we? Just collecting bets," one responded mischievously. She guessed it was George as his other brother was giving her the evilest glare she had ever received in her life, and that was saying something… she was related to Marcus.

"You'd have to deduct points from every students who placed bets with us," he said, his eyes defiant.

"You will shut down this operation immediately," Carolina said tersely.

"You know, Fred? I don't think we will," George said shrugging his shoulders as he began yelling "Place your bets!" Again.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Carolina said, narrowing her eyes at Fred. She didn't like being disobeyed.

"You can't do that. We haven't technically broken any rules!" Fred argued.

"I'm sure you have," Carolina said, finally turning her back on the duo. It really wasn't worth getting into it with them today when she could enjoy the tournament instead.

"Merlin, she's such a bitch," Carolina heard Fred lean in to say to his brother. She whirled around, drawing her wand.

"What'd you say?!" She pointed her wand squarely at his chest, fuming. What right did he have to call her names? All of this hostility was his fault. She couldn't' be blamed for merely enforcing the Hogwarts rules.

"Caro, leave it, let's go," Adrian said, having caught up to her in the stands. He put his arm over her shoulders and pulled her around so that she was no longer looking at them.

"I hate them! I absolutely hate them!" Carolina fumed, allowing herself to be dragged back over to the Slytherin section. "He makes me so angry!"

"They're just Gryffindors. Don't know when to shut up. You can't let them get to you," Adrian said comfortingly.

"I suppose," Carolina sighed, taking her seat. Why did Fred have to go out of his way to ruin everything? And furthermore, Adrian's advice was totally useless, she grumbled to herself. When was the last time anyone called him a bitch? Like he would understand what it felt like being called one.

Carolina closed her eyes. She wasn't going allow the awful Weasley Twins to ruin her day. When she opened them, it was to the sound of Dumbledore's echoing voice, announcing that Diggory was the first champion up. She cheered along with her fellow students as the handsome sixth year carefully made his way into the arena. She was determined to enjoy herself.

* * *

"The Yule Ball is… a chance for Slytherin House to put their best foot forward and I expect each and every one of you to act and dress with the decorum that this house deserves," Professor Snape drawled.

One week after the first task, in which much to Carolina's chagrine, Potter had performed amiably, a notice had appeared on the Slytherin announcement board in their common room stating that the Yule Ball would be happening Christmas Eve and was only open to fourth years and up—unless a younger student was invited by an older one.

The day after, a second notice went up, announcing that all Slytherins, fourth year and up, were required to attend a preparatory meeting with their house on the following Saturday.

"Now… as I'm sure you have gathered, the Yule Ball is… a dance," Professor Snape continued slowly, his lip turning up to show his distaste for the event. "As such, it is expected of you to know how to dance properly which is why the headmaster has required this meeting." A group of girls, including Carolina's roommates tittered in excitement.

Snape looked as if he'd much rather be dueling the giant squid than teaching a bunch of teenagers how to dance, in Carolina's opinion. He was staring straight ahead at the dungeon wall, discomfort written across his pointed features.

"I will need a volunteer," he said, finally lowering his gaze to peer at the students. His eyes roved across the rows and Carolina felt in the pit of her stomach that she knew what was going to happen before it did. Perhaps this was the only downfall of being a teacher's favorite student.

"Ms. Flint, if you would," Snape said when no one raised their hand to volunteer. Carolina groaned inwardly; Adrian was totally going to take the mickey out of her later. She heard a few giggles from the same group of girls as she stood up and seriously approached the professor.

"Students will retain a… tasteful distance between each other. No less than a foot at least," Snape said. "Ladies you will hold your dance partner's shoulders, just so." Carolina felt the Potion's Master guide her arms to his shoulders. She blushed as some student or another wolf whistled. Snape sent him a withering glare and he instantly quieted down.

"And gentlemen, will place their hands upon the waist of their partner." Carolina closed her eyes as she felt her Professor's hands on her waist. The students seated along the dungeon wall burst into raucous laughter.

"Silence!" Snape roared at them, and they instantly shut up. "The basic waltz is easy, requiring only four steps, such as this." Carolina let him guide her around the room, suddenly grateful for the terrible dance lessons her mother had forced her and Marcus to attend when they were younger. At least her dance skills wouldn't add kindling to the fire of teasing she was about to endure when this so-called preparatory meeting was over.

"Now, find a partner—all of you!" Snape dropped his hands from Carolina's waist and she quickly scurried over to Adrian, securing him as her partner

"Oh, Severus!" Miles whispered over to them, cackling, "won't you go with me to the ball?" Montague, who stood next to him cracked up and even Adrian let out a laugh that he quickly subverted into a cough as Carolina shot him a particularly annoyed glare.

"Shut it, Bletchley!" She snarled, placing her hands on Adrian's shoulders. "Why is it always me?" Carolina whined to her partner as the music started up.

"Can you imagine if it was Morgana up there?" Adrian chuckled, getting a snort from Carolina.

"Look at her, she can barely stay up without tripping!" Carolina laughed, gesturing to Morgana who had been partnered up with a miserable fourth year, much shorter than the girl. "Ow! Adrian, watch it! You're almost as bad as her!" She admonished her friend when he absently stepped on her foot.

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm not as good a dancer as _Severus,_ " Adrian joked.

"I don't want to hear it from you," Carolina scowled back to which Adrian merely laughed.

"Are you… are you going to ask anyone?" Carolina asked him, after a brief pause.

"Er… yeah, I think so. What about you?"

"Well, I'd like to be asked, you know?" Carolina blushed. She and Adrian had never talked about this sort of thing before.

"Do you have someone in mind?" he responded.

"No one in particular…" Carolina trailed off. This was nothing if not true. A year ago, a freckled, blue-eyed redhead would have popped into her mind, but seeing as how awful he was being to her, she'd rather attend the dance with Filch. Apart from him… well, there really weren't too many options. She would just have to see who would ask her and make the most logical decision based on her options. That seemed like the thing to do.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Thank you once again to all my readers who are leaving reviews or following/favoriting. Your support means the world to me. So, I have some bad news... I won't be able to update the story quite as often as I have been doing over the next two weeks because I will be driving across the country and will have limited access to internet. Should pick back up again around the first week of September! :-)_


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

It was as if a fever had swept through Hogwarts after the announcement of the Yule Ball—the only topic of discussion being who had been asked by whom. Unfortunately for Carolina, her classmates hadn't dropped the snide remarks and teasing about her dance with Snape so not only was she forced to put up with the insipid conversations of her roommates, but Adrian and Miles had been particularly crude as of late.

Classes were nearing their end for the semester and the workload had piled up; it was as if the professors had collectively decided that the student body would appreciate the Yule Ball more if they couldn't prepare for it at all; instead focusing their energies on end of semester papers, pop quizzes, and practical demonstrations in front of their peers.

"Carolina, have you been asked yet?" Delia whispered, leaning across the aisle between their desks, interestedly. They were currently supposed to be copying down charms notes for a quiz later on in the week.

Carolina pursed her lips, certain that Delia knew what her answer would be and that this was once again just an excuse to ridicule her.

"Not yet," was her short reply.

"Pity… Graham asked me almost a week ago," she said.

"Did he?" Carolina said, not taking her eyes off her paper as her hand scribbled quickly across it.

"It was so romantic," Delia continued, oblivious to Carolina's disinterest. "He took me down to the lake and asked me there…" She smiled and looked towards the front of the class fondly, as if recalling an old memory.

"Wanted the squid for an audience, hm?" Carolina quipped, annoyed at her roommate's theatrics.

"Carolina!" Delia admonished. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous!"

"Really, Delia, I'm not."

"Cassius asked Abigail as well," Delia spouted back, as if telling Carolina a fact she already knew would make her even more jealous.

"I heard." Carolina was nearing the end of the notes on the board.

Delia pursed her lips, frustrated that her strategy wasn't working. "I could help you find someone… unless you'd rather go solo with Morgana."

"I can find someone on my own, thank you very much," Carolina said, putting down her quill and turning to face Delia angrily.

"Just thought I'd offer my services; I am rather good at securing a beaux after all," Delia said, smirking.

Carolina rolled her eyes and pulled out her Charms textbook to expand upon her notes.

"Thank you, but like I said, I can find a date on my own."

"She's holding out for Snape," Miles said, who had apparently been listening into their conversation and chose this moment to lean back in his chair and add his own opinion.

Delia let out a high pitched giggle, earning her a very stern "Ms. O'Reilly!" squeak from Professor Flitwick.

"Doesn't that joke get old?" Carolina glared at Miles.

"Nope!" He responded happily, winking at her, before turning back to his own paper.

Thankfully, Carolina was saved from further ridicule by the sound of the bell, tolling the lunch hour. She quickly packed up her book bag and was the first student out of the classroom.

"Flint!" She heard from behind her, as she waded through corridor, now teeming with students on their way to the Great Hall.

She turned around, surprised to find one of Malfoy's friends running up to her, rather winded.

"Flint!" He called again, elbowing a first year in the nose as he made his way over to her.

"Yes?" She asked, unimpressed. The said first year's nose was now bleeding onto his white button up and Carolina had half a mind to dock points from the oaf in front of her.

"You're Caroline, right?" Upon closer inspection, she deduced that the boy was actually Gregory Goyle, whose parents she had met over the summer.

"Caro-lee-nuh," she corrected, pursing her lips.

"Oh, yeah, right," he paused awkwardly, his mouth hanging agape. "I was actually wondering if you, um, wanted to go to the dance with me?"

Carolina's eyebrows shot up. "You didn't even know how to say my name," she responded, a look of disgust flitting across her face. Was this a practical joke Miles or Adrian had set up for her?

"Oh, right. Well. Do you?" The boy had the decency to look hopeful.

"No, not particularly," Carolina said, turning on her heel. That had been rather shameful; surely she could do better than the likes of Gregory Goyle, a fourth year!

Carolina continued into the Great Hall and plopped down next to Adrian and Miles who had overlapped her as she had been held back by the pitiful fourth year.

"You will not believe who just asked me to the dance," Carolina said with a huff, helping herself to half a sandwich.

"Who?" Adrian asked, his interest piqued.

"Bloody Goyle." At this, Miles burst in laughter and Carolina shot him a look. "Pronounced my name wrong too, the imbecile," she finished, causing Miles to only laugh harder. "Oh shut up," she finally said to him, annoyed with his antics.

"What did you say?" Adrian asked.

"No! Obviously!" Carolina responded.

Adrian shrugged in response, chewing thoughtfully on his sausage, and staring silently at the contingent of Beauxbatons students seated at the Ravenclaw table.

"You don't think… You don't think he'll be the only one to ask me, do you?" Carolina said, leaning over to whisper to Adrian worriedly.

"Hm, no," he said airily.

"Earth to Adrian, what are you even looking at?" She asked, frustratedly waving her hand in front of his face.

"What? Oh, nothing. Sorry what were you saying?" He looked at her quizzically.

"Never mind," Carolina said, rolling her eyes. These boys had the emotional maturity of infants, she decided.

* * *

Five days later, Carolina was sitting at the Slytherin table, finishing her breakfast when her family's owl swooped by, dropping a letter onto her plate.

 _Dear Carolina,_

 _Just this morning I received a rather unsettling letter from Matilda Goyle. She claims that her son asked you to the ball and you rudely refused! I immediately wrote back that there must have been some confusion, for surely I have not raised a daughter who would turn down a wealthy pureblood suitor that has already been recommended by the Malfoy family. I thought you had enjoyed talking to Matilda at their manor over the summer? She certainly had seemed fond of you, when she recommended you to her son. I am simply astounded that you have found yet another way to bring shame upon the Flint family name. I implore that you find the boy and profusely apologize for your lapse in judgement and attempt to re-enter his good graces._

 _Please write back swiftly,_

 _Your Mother_

So Goyle had only asked her to the ball because his mummy had told him to? She certainly had no intention of begging for him to take her, as her mother suggested she do, after learning that tidbit of information.

Carolina angrily pulled her wand out of her pocket and held it up to the letter, lighting it on fire. She let it burn until the flames were almost lapping at her fingers, at which point she dropped It boredom into her pumpkin juice.

"That wasn't dramatic at all," Adrian commented, observing her.

"Just my mother, delusional as usual," Carolina snarled.

"What did she write this time?"

"Apparently, Goyle only asked me because his mother told him to," Carolina cringed, putting her head in her hands.

Adrian snorted but quickly fixed his smile, saying "sorry, not funny, definitely not funny," after Carolina glared at him.

"I'm going to class," Carolina said crossly. Maybe this was funny to him, but it certainly wasn't to her. The ball as growing ever closer and not only would she be laughed at by her peers if she turned up solo, she'd also have to answer to her irate mother who was surely a more fearsome prospect.

"Going early to propose to Snape, are we?" Miles said, plopping down across the table. Carolina glared at him as she stood up and hitched her bag over her shoulder.

"Bletchley if you don't drop it I swear to Merlin I will—"

"What, give me a detention? Read aloud the Hogwarts code of conduct until my ears fall off?" He leaned forward on his elbows, looking up at her lazily.

Carolina felt her hands grasp into fists. "I'm not the only one without a date, you know," she spat spitefully down at the boys. "No one's said yes to you two idiots either. Better get a move on or all the decent girls will be spoken for." With that, she turned on her heel and marched down the aisle to the great oaken doors.

Double Potions was miserable. Snape seemed to have picked up on the rumors that Carolina fancied him after the dancing lessons, and was being particularly prickly, as if to dissuade the students from believing the foul gossip in the first place. Normally, when he walked around the classroom to check the students' work, he offered comments and tips, almost always helpful and positive to Carolina at least, but today he merely scrunched his nose, before moving on.

Not only that, but Carolina was seated next to Morgana, as Adrian and Miles had arrived after her and decided to sit together. And Morgana, despite being good at following directions, lacked the inspiring abilities of her former Potions partner to hold up her side of a conversation.

Carolina found herself wistfully remembering the jokes Fred had made last year, before she quickly corrected herself. Certainly he may have been entertaining once, even nice and funny, but now he was just a stuck-up git who couldn't see past his black or white, Gryffindor morality complex.

She sighed as she dropped in the final ingredient: powdered Algerian moth wings and watched as her potion swirled to become a placid sky blue color. It was perfect. She scooped up a sample of it into her vial and corked the top. She looked up to the front of the room. Snape was now seated at his desk, scratching something on a parchment.

She stood up and slowly approached the professor, hoping that he would recognize her good work. She placed the vial down into its holder on his desk and paused, waiting for him to acknowledge her, but he merely continued writing, his eyes glued down to the paper in front of him.

Carolina let out a breath and turned back to her desk. She vanished the rest of her potion and packed up her notes before leaving the classroom a few minutes early. Next, she had a short free period before lunch and she figured she might as well finish up the Arithmancy practice questions, so she took off in the direction of the library.

There were only three days after today left of the semester, and yet she not only had the Arithmancy exam, a spoken evaluation in Ancient Runes, a bloody Charms quiz, and whatever horror Professor Moody deemed worthy to inflict upon them for the end of the semester.

She felt exhausted as she walked up the moving staircase to the third floor, where the library was situated. All of this and she had a mere ten days to find a date before the 24th.

She sat down at her favorite table and pulled out her notes, staring at the symbols on the page. It was going to be hard to focus on her homework, with so many thoughts twisting themselves around in her head.

"Oi, Carolina!" Miles sat down with a thump across from her and put his feet up on her desk.

She stared at them, nonplussed, before turning her attention to him. "Yes?"

"So, no one's asked you yet?"

"Goyle did." Where was this conversation going? Couldn't he see that she was trying to prepare for their exam?

"Oh yeah. That was bloody funny!"

"Did you want something, Miles?"

"Well, you know, seeing as you don't have anyone to go with, I thought I'd maybe do you a favor and we could go together? You know?"

Carolina felt her mouth drop open. Do her a favor? Who did he think he was? Merlin himself? And what about all of the awful things he had said about her and Professor Snape? Did he think she didn't care that he had been running his mouth for the last week?

"Are you kidding me?"

"What? No?" He started to become defensive. "C'mon, it'd be fun. Two prefects…"

"You think you'd be doing me a favor?" Carolina snarled, pushing her notes to the side.

"No!" He nearly yelled, earning them a glare from Madam Pince. "Well, I mean. Who were thinking of going with? You could do worse than me, Flint."

"I could, couldn't I?"

Miles began to stutter. "I was just thinking that—since, you know—you didn't, and I didn't—"

"Miles, if you actually wanted to go with me, you really shouldn't have insulted me in the process of asking me," Carolina frowned.

"Is that.. a yes?"

"Are you daft? That's a bloody no!"

"You think you're so much better than everyone, just because you're a Flint," Miles snarled, obviously angered by her response.

"You're not doing yourself any favors here," Carolina said, narrowing her eyes.

"I hope you enjoy going to the dance on your own," Miles sneered, dropping his feet to the floor and stomping out of the library.

Carolina leaned back into her chair and looked up at the ceiling. This day couldn't get any worse.

So, it was with a relieved sigh that she dropped down next to Adrian that evening on the bottle green couch in the Slytherin Common Room.

"I can't even think about looking at my Transfiguration homework," Carolina complained, rubbing her temples.

Adrian smiled understandingly at her. "We're almost done. Three more days."

"Miles is such a tosser. I don't know how you're friends with him," Carolina said, her eyes still closed.

"I figured there was a reason he wasn't sitting with us during lunch and dinner…"

"He's so entitled!" Carolina whined, to which Adrian merely shrugged. Carolina opened one eye, surprised by her best friend's silence. He was sitting cross legged with his shoes off, a book in his hands and small smile at his lips.

Carolina squinted, watching him. His eyes weren't moving; he wasn't actually reading. His smile twitched upwards.

"Ades…"

"Hm?" He raised his eyebrows and looked up from the book to peer at her, the smile still present.

"What if… what if we went to the ball together? I know we're friends, but… there really isn't anyone that I know that I like better and you aren't taking anyone, are you?" Carolina asked hopefully.

Adrian's eyebrows immediately dropped into a sympathetic look. His smile changed as he pushed his lips together and let out a breath. Carolina immediately felt her stomach tighten in embarrassment. His look alone was enough to communicate his thoughts on the matter.

"Actually, I am…"

"Oh. Yeah, of course," Carolina couldn't think of anything to say so she turned back to the fire.

"She's from Beauxbatons. Cleo. I think you'd really like her."

"Yeah, that's great." Carolina had never felt so humiliated in her life.

"I'm sorry, Caro…" Adrian was still giving her that sympathetic look.

"No! It's totally fine. I'm just… I think I'll go to bed, finish Transfiguration up there," Carolina said as she stood up abruptly. It all made sense now. She had noticed Adrian staring longingly at the Beauxbatons students. Apparently he had been staring at one student in particular.

"You might want to ask if she has a friend for Miles," Carolina continued before turning on her heel and avoiding Adrian's eyes as if her life depended on it.

She hurried up the staircase and collapsed on her empty bed, thankful that Delia and Abigail seemed to be with Graham and Cassius instead of primping in their room.

Not only was she going to go to the ball alone, she had just made a fool of herself in front of her best friend. What if Adrian didn't want to be friends anymore? What if he thought she really liked him? What if he and his date had such a good time together that he stopped spending time with Carolina? What if… What if the best she could do was Miles? What if no one would ever like her?

"You're being silly," she whispered aloud to herself.

"What?"

"Oh!" Carolina squeaked, sitting upright. It was just Morgana coming out of their bathroom. "Sorry," she said, blushing. "I guess I was just talking to myself.

Morgana shrugged. "Millicent talks in her sleep," she said, referring to her younger sister. "Talks to her cat sometimes too."

"Hm," Carolina said, not too excited about the prospect of a conversation with Morgana about her family's sleeping habits. "You done in there?"

Morgana nodded before crawling into her bed.

"Night!" Carolina called over her shoulder. She closed the bathroom door and peered at herself in the mirror. She really was being silly. And irrational. She didn't want to date Adrian. Not at all. In fact, it was probably better to go to the ball alone than to go with any of her classmates, dull as they were.

As she finished brushing her hair and teeth, she couldn't help but feel that she was allowing the zeitgeist of Hogwarts to infiltrate her logical mind. Truly, she had been giving these thoughts the space to torment her more than they normally would. In the grand scheme of things, of wizardkind, there was much more to spend time thinking about…

That being said, she had a much harder time falling asleep that night than she would have liked to admit, and when she awoke the next morning, the general unease that had been coursing through her mind was still present, albeit slightly diminished.

She had woken up early, before her alarm even, and had gone through her morning routine quickly, anxious to get the day over with.

Arriving to a nearly empty Great Hall, she took her normal seat close to the Durmstrang contingent, even though the boys she normally sat with weren't up from the dungeons yet.

Deciding that if there was no one to talk to, she might as well get some reading done, Carolina pulled out her most recent library book, "The Early Days of the Wizards Council," a book on the wizarding government before the Ministry came to fruition.

She had only been reading for five minutes or so when a voice interrupted her trance.

"Good morning, Carolina."

"Er, good morning." It was that Durmstrang student. The blond one who had been strangely persistent in greeting her each morning, despite her not knowing his name.

"You are reading."

Carolina gave him a tight lipped smile. "I am." She looked back down to book, eager for the conversation to end.

"What it is you are reading?"

Carolina sighed, lifting the book off the table to show him the cover. "It's about our government—before it was a government, I guess," she told him.

He opened his mouth to respond, his brow furrowed.

"You are liking to read very much?"

"I do," Carolina responded, uncertain of where the conversation could possibly be heading.

"Perhaps another thing you would like is to attend with me the Yule Ball?" Carolina's eyebrows shot up. That certainly was not was she had been expecting to hear.

"Oh, er…" she looked over at the Durmstrang boy, scrutinizing him. He was quite fit and his hair was… nice. Long. It fell to just above his jaw line, but not in a messy way. Sort of… gracefully. She couldn't remember his name, though. Was she any bit better than Goyle if she didn't remember her date's name?

On the other hand, it would be nice to have the worrying over with and yes, she decided, he really was rather good looking. He had blue eyes, a clear complexion, a thin build, and despite a rather large nose, a nice face and smile.

He looked at her expectantly, smiling. "I… yes, I would like that," she said after a moment, before letting out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"This is very good," the boy said, before returning to eat his breakfast and chat with his friends.

Secretly, Carolina agreed wholeheartedly. Finally, she could let go of the anxiety of who she would be going to the ball with and focus on her studies again. And this boy, whatever his name was, seemed decent enough. And her mother wouldn't necessarily fault her for turning down Goyle if she was asked by a foreigner, could she? Wasn't that the whole point of the tournament? International wizarding cooperation? Now, she just needed to find out his name before the dance…

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Thank you all for your patience! Back to my regular updating schedule (which isn't **really** a schedule but pretty much every six days or so). Please let me know what you thought of this chapter in the reviews! I'm excited to publish the next one... the Yule Ball!_


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

Carolina tugged at the sleeve of her dress, edging it even more off her shoulder. She wasn't sure what to do. Felix had told her he would meet her in the entrance hall before the dance and it was nearly time for the champions to make their entrance. She had urged Adrian to go into the Great Hall without her and find a table while she waited, but that had been nearly ten minutes ago.

It had taken some snooping; she had listened to his friends talk, hoping they would talk about him. She had been extra vigilant at mealtimes but had eventually found out his name. Felix Arvidson. He had just turned 18. But that was the extent of the information she had been able to find out.

As she watched her fellow students jovially skip into the ball, she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. He wasn't going to come. This had all been a great misunderstanding, or a practical joke set up by Miles to get back at her for turning him down. Or… perhaps… she suddenly felt her pulse hasten at the thought, perhaps it had always been in her head. Had she imagined the interaction, confused by her own exhaustion? Had it been her own mind that had played the practical joke? To full of arithmancy and runes to function properly…

"Carolina?"

Her entire body swiveled around at the sound of her name and her face lit up. It hadn't been in her head at all! There he was, standing tall in front of her.

"You are looking beautiful." Carolina blushed.

"Thank you." Felix was looking rather handsome as well, Carolina thought as her blush turned into something a bit more fiery. He was wearing a fancier version of the Durmstrang uniforms. Still blood red, but with golden buttons and a thick cape. Truly, he was quite better looking than any of the boys in her year, she decided. Abigail and Delia would be jealous. "Shall we go in?" She asked, anxious to get inside before the champions made their entrance.

Felix smiled and offered her his arm, which she gladly took, as they walked into the hall.

Somehow, the Great Hall had been transformed into a glistening, sparkling winter wonderland. Snow was softly falling from the rafters, but it disappeared just as it approached the students' heads. And humongous Christmas trees lined the walls, all with snow on their branches and great big champagne colored baubles swinging on their limbs. Fairies had been captured in what seemed to be floating bell jars and were emitting a soft white glow. Carolina couldn't help but gasp in awe.

The pair took a seat at a table with Felix's friends. This was perfectly fine with Carolina. She didn't particularly want to interact with Adrian or Miles at the moment, or to have Delia and Abigail purposefully embarrass her in front of her date.

Felix introduced her to the other Durmstrang students, a few of which had asked other Hogwarts and Beauxbatons students to the dance. Carolina recognized a pretty Ravenclaw seventh year—Lila? Lillian?—who gave her a warm smile.

She politely introduced herself to all of Felix's friends, but there were so many of them, she couldn't remember all of the foreign names.

Dinner was a subdued affair for her. Felix seemed not too preoccupied with making conversation, but kept telling her, nearly every other sentence how beautiful she looked. About halfway through the dinner, Carolina realized that his partial silence might have been for lack of English vocabulary, which made her a bit more sympathetic to his quietude. After all, she could only speak English herself.

"Would you like to dance?"

They had finished the meal, the silver plates had been disappeared off the table and the four champions had taken the stage (which Carolina had glumly watched, still spiteful that she hadn't been able to enter.)

"Sure." She reached up to his outstretched hand and he pulled her out of her seat, guiding her to the dance floor.

He quickly placed a firm hand on her waist and in his other, captured her hand, guiding her in complex swirls around the room to the music.

"You're quite a good dancer," Carolina said to him, marveling at his skill. She had considered herself to be a fine dancer after the lessons her mother had forced upon her and Marcus at a young age, but she could barely keep up with Felix who seemed to float and glide rather than step his way through the room.

"Before Durmstrang, I was training in Danish Youth Ballet," he replied casually.

"Really?" Carolina asked excitedly. "That explains it then." It explained a lot. His dancing. His fit body. His general grace. "Are you… a muggleborn, then?"

Felix's expression darkened a bit. "Yes… why is it you are asking?"

"Well, wizards don't practice ballet, is all. I've never even seen it performed but I have read about it! I'd love to see it sometime," Carolina rushed through her words, hoping she hadn't offended her date by asking after his blood status.

His face relaxed a bit. "I am always wishing to continue at Durmstrang but it is not done." He grew solemn, before smiling slyly at her. "Perhaps if you visit me in Copenhagen you will see ballet."

Carolina smiled brightly. "Perhaps!" She said, feeling much more comfortable with him now for some reason.

A few dances later, Carolina sat down at their table, now vacated by the couples and waited as Felix went off in search of punch. She felt herself grinning. She had been so worried just an hour ago, and for no reason! She felt giddy with relief and excitement.

It was strange, she thought to herself, picking at a loose thread in her expensive, deep blue gown, to have the attention of a boy.

"Carolina, you are an absolutely terrible friend!" Abigail said mockingly, sitting down on Carolina's left.

"You should have told us you had been asked by a bloke!" Delia said, joining them.

"And a fit bloke at that!" Abigail leaned in, giddily.

"We were so worried you'd end up an old maid, what with how you're normally so—well, you know," Delia said, giving Carolina a sarcastic smile.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Carolina said giving a tight-lipped smile back. Delia was so much worse than Abigail, always throwing in snide remarks. Abigail was at the very least merely clueless; Delia had malintent.

"What's his name? He looks older. Is he older?" Abigail whispered conspiratorially, before looking around as if Felix had overheard them.

"Felix," Carolina replied. "He's 18."

"Ooooh!" Abigail giggled.

"Well, now I see why you turned down Miles," Delia said. "He is quite fitter. What's his blood status?"

"You're one to talk, Delia," Carolina replied snappily, arching her eyebrows at her hypocritical roommate. Delia's parents were both wizards, but everyone knew that the O'Reilly's were only third generation wizards. Her great-grandfather had been a muggle.

Delia looked offended and Carolina felt satisfied that she had answered without revealing Felix's blood status. No matter how hot or old or foreign he was, if her housemates found out he was a muggleborn, she would instantly lose whatever social standing she had attained in attending the ball with him.

"Carolina," Felix waved jovially as he approached the three students, a drink in hand.

"See you, girls," Carolina said, excusing herself, glad to be rid of the two before they asked any more questions.

"Thank you for the drink," she smiled at him, before taking a sip.

Felix smiled back as they sipped their drinks in silence.

Carolina surveyed the crowd as the pair stood on the outskirts of the dance floor. The Weird Sisters were playing an uptempo song and the students were jumping around energetically.

As if they were pulled by some magnetic force, Carolina's eyes immediately focused in on a tuft of red hair, bouncing enthusiastically above the crowd. She squinted her eyes, trying to make out which twin it was.

He was dancing in bizarre, spastic movements with his date, the pretty black girl on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but she seemed to be enjoying herself despite his lack of etiquette. In fact, she was laughing rather uproariously as he twirled her around again and again. She seemed to get dizzy and fall into his arms and they both threw back their heads in laughter, clinging to each other and moving to the beat.

Carolina felt her stomach tighten into a knot at the sight of them. She had never seen a smile so wide grace his face…

She wasn't jealous, she told herself. No, it was only anger that she was feeling. He wasn't supposed to be happy. He was a complete arsehole; he didn't deserve to be smiling that much after how rude and downright awful he had been all semester.

Besides, there was no reason to be jealous, even if she wasn't; she had Felix. Carolina tore her eyes away from the couple to look at her date. She quickly finished the rest of her punch, put the cup down at the table and grabbed his hand.

"Let's go dance," she said, pulling him forward to the join the mass of students in the center of the room.

Carolina's legs felt exhausted as the Weird Sisters played their final song, a slow rock ballad. There weren't so many couples left on the dancefloor apart from her and Felix. Adrian and his dat, Cleo, were seated at a table, talking rather intensely. Abigail and Delia had disappeared somewhere with Graham and Cassius, and it appeared that Miles had retired early. Carolina smirked as Felix pulled her closer; it served him right. His sense of self could be brought down a few notches. As she surveyed the surviving dancers, she absently searched for the familiar red hair but was surprised to only find the twins' younger sister was the remaining Weasley on the dancefloor. Her smirk widened; maybe Fred's night hadn't been so grand after all.

Suddenly, she dropped her smirk. Was that him? With his brother… in the far corner of the hall? They seemed to be cornering someone. A man, if she was correct. She squinted; it certainly wasn't his date, that was for sure. Carolina felt the knot she had been feeling from earlier untie itself and she let out a sigh of relief, resting her head on Felix's shoulder. It seemed he had quickly forgotten the Gryffindor girl. But what were they doing with that man? And why did he look so familiar to her?

She watched them. Whatever it was they were talking about seemed to be prompting the twins to grow even more heated, as George waved his arms in the air exasperatedly.

"Carolina," Felix said. She quickly drew her eyes away from the twins and looked up at him curiously. "The ball is ended." He gave her small side small.

"Oh!" Carolina said, noticing for the first time that the music had stopped and her arms were still around his neck. "Sorry," she blushed. "I guess… I guess I should be getting back to the common room." She dropped her arms to her side and swung them back and forth awkwardly.

"I will escort you," Felix said as they left the emptying hall.

"Er, no, it's alright. It's in the dungeons and I wouldn't want you to get lost on your way back," she said softly, looking down at the stone floor.

A silent pause followed that began to suffocate Carolina. She inhaled deeply, before saying, "Well, I'm glad you asked me; I had a nice time. Good night, I guess," refusing to meet his searching eyes.

She turned to leave down the staircase that led to the dungeons from the first floor when she felt his hand reach out and grab her wrist, sending a jolt of nerves down her spine. He tugged slightly, pulling her around to look at him finally.

Yet she only got a brief glimpse, as he pulled her into his body, deftly capturing her lips with his. Carolina felt his fingers, as his other hand moved to the back of her head, push into her thick hair, before the one holding her wrist let go and moved to her waist.

She was shocked to say the least. She had never been kissed before and instantly felt her heart rate accelerate. What if she was a bad kisser? She had never bothered learning how, not that she would have had many resources. She certainly never would have gone to Abigail or Delia to discuss the topic and going to her elder sibling was laughable.

Despite her nerves, Carolina felt her lips move of their own accord, kissing him back. His lips felt… soft and he tasted like the punch from the ball. Suddenly, she felt very aware that her arms were still hanging like two noodles down by her side and she brought them up to wrap over his shoulders.

The kissing lasted quite a bit longer than Carolina had imagined kissing would. Her parents had only ever kissed briefly, and that was an especially rare sight, and the only other kisses she had witnessed had been snogging couples that she had run into during prefect rounds. And they had always been on the cusp of doing something other than snogging, if she was being perfectly honest.

She briefly opened her eyes, which she noticed she had closed automatically. Felix's eyes were closed too and his face was softly out of focus from their proximity. She could see his individual blond hairs that had fallen into his eyes. She could even see the tiny hairs on his face, the small pores along his nose, the crease of his eyebrows…

She closed her eyes again, afraid that he would open his and see her peering at him. The kiss went on for a few more seconds, before Felix slowly pulled away and Carolina opened her eyes again, very aware of how flushed she must have appeared. Her face felt as if it was on fire, and her lips tingled.

"Will you—will I see you again?" Felix said. Apparently, snogging made English even harder for him.

Carolina grinned, a feeling of elation rippling through her body.

"Of course," she laughed, relieved that he wanted to see her again, despite the fact that she was probably a terrible kisser and despite how little they had talked that evening and despite that there were certainly prettier girls at Hogwarts.

"This is good," Felix said, smiling also, before he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Good night Carolina." He turned and walked towards the entrance to the castle, before turning and waving at her as he disappeared out onto the grounds to walk back through the snow to the Durmstrang ship.

Carolina fell back against the cold stone wall and closed her eyes, a grin spreading her lips wide. She no longer felt exhausted, but like she could dance for another ten hours and still not tire.

Her first kiss! And to think she had considered attending the ball with Adrian as friends. Oh no, this was so much better!

"Ms. Flint, you'd better return to your common room." The strict tone of Professor McGonagall broke her out of her elation. She opened her eyes, her grin drooping slightly, though not disappearing altogether.

"Yes, ma'am!" She said, scampering off to the archway where the stairs were located. She felt like flying. It would be a wonder if she was able to fall asleep at all that night.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

The winter had slowly slipped into a wet spring and Hogwarts had been doused in a dense fog for the past week. Looking out the castle windows, students could barely make out the edge of the forest, let alone the normally visible mountain ranges in the distance.

It was Sunday and Carolina found herself clinging to Felix's arm as they slipped down the muddy grass to the lake where the second task of the Triwizard Tournament would take place.

A few steps out of the great oaken doors and Carolina's mary-janes were already caked in mud and it took a great deal of balance not to fall on her bum, pulling Felix down with her.

She felt comfortable enough with him now to hold hands in public, an action she hadn't been used to. Over the past two months, he had been nothing but kind to her, sitting with her during meals, studying with her in the library. They even sometimes went on walks on the grounds when the weather permitted it. They didn't talk much however. He appeared to prefer physical intimacy, it seemed to Carolina. On their walks, hardly a word was said and they were usually taken with the purpose of reaching a secluded location that was more comfortable to snog in.

Carolina wasn't sure what she thought of it all. On one hand, Delia and Abigail seemed to have a newfound respect for her and Miles never dared say a distasteful word during mealtimes anymore. On the other, she had a nagging thought in the back of her hand that while snogging was nice and all, she'd much rather date someone who was a bit more interested in getting to know her. Still, she allowed him to kiss her in hidden alcoves before her prefect rounds and by the lake on Sunday afternoons when she had finished her studies, and she didn't have any intention to stop him from doing so.

Despite the cold, grey weather, the students of the three schools were turning out in droves to watch the second task. There was a distinct chill in the air, as the wind rippled off the top of the lake.

Makeshift stands had been erected on a platform that jutted into the water and they were nearing capacity as Carolina clung to Felix, sidestepping students on the way to sit with the Durmstrang contingent.

Behind her, Carolina heard the Weasley twins yelling above the crowd, advertising their gambling services once again and she scowled, turning her head to peer at them briefly, before looking forward again to avoid knocking over any younger students. She had half a mind to deduct another ten points from the pair for taking bets. Maybe even 15 for disregarding a previous warning from a prefect, but she decided she'd better not. Felix was grinning back at her, tugging her along and it would be awfully rude to abandon him in pursuit of enforcing regulations.

Finally, they reached Felix's friends, all of whom were supporting Victor Krum (for good reason, of course.)

Felix hung around with a group of six other boys, one of which included the infamous Bulgarian seeker, who had all welcomed Carolina into their mealtimes if not affectionately than with as much warmth as one could muster for someone who didn't speak their language.

The boys greeted Carolina and Felix with hearty slaps on the back.

"You are very bold enough to sit with us!" Roared Yuri, the most boisterous of the group, with his thick Russian accent, embracing Carolina. Despite his dark eyes and pallid figure, Yuri reminded Carolina of Fred a bit. He was always teasing his friends. "Who are you for? Potter or Diggory?"

"I'd rather Krum over Potter," Carolina grimaced, eliciting cacophonous cheers from the boys.

She rather liked them. Had the tables been turned and had she brought Felix to sit with Adrian, Miles, Cassius, Graham, Abigail, Delia and Morgana, she hardly believed her housemates would have acted with half as much acceptance and warmth as these boys had displayed towards her… and they barely knew her. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

"Welcome! Students and esteemed guests to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament!" Dumbledore's voice boomed out over the stands, echoing briefly of the rippling surface of the lake.

Suddenly, a dark haired figure burst onto the champions platform. It was Potter! Was he running late for his own tournament? Carolina scowled. Typical.

After a quick bout of hubbub in which Professor Karkaroff objected to Harry's ability to compete, Dumbledore silenced the crowd with a quick wave of his hand.

"The competitors will have one hour to search the lake to find what they must retrieve. If they return unsuccessfully, or after one hour as elapsed, points will be subtracted from their score. At the sound of the cannon the competitors may beg—" Dumbledore's eyes widened as he was cut off by the sound of the cannon firing early.

"Begin!" He roared, regaining his composure.

The champions catapulted themselves into the frigid lake and Carolina felt chills roll up her spine at the thought of bare skin upon the frigid water. She watched enraptured as both Diggory and the Beauxbatons candidate—Delacour or something—both performed the bubblehead charms, before diving into the lake. Krum seemed to be taking an entirely different route as it appeared he had partially transfigured his head into that of a shark. Meanwhile, potter was just standing there, he seemed to be chewing something.

Suddenly, he started clutching at his neck and as Carolina squinted, she could see gills slicing through the bare skin. His fingers started to become webbed as he thrashed about. The transformation seemed painful at best…

"Of course! Gillyweed!" Carolina said aloud. Perhaps herbology was a more useful subject than she had previously given it credit for. Had she been accepted into the tournament, she surely would have gone with a strategy similar to Krum's, but Gillyweed was a much more graceful attempt and she had a feeling Potter would be rewarded for this ingenuity.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, the Beauxbatons student surfaced frantically. She seemed to have bruises all along her arms and legs and coughed as the judges helped haul her out of the water.

"Miss Delacour returns, unable to complete the task," announced Professor Dumbledore, as soon as Madam Pomfrey assured him that the girl wasn't seriously injured. From Carolina's vantage point, she still seemed to be fussing over the pretty girl nonetheless.

The rest of the allotted hour passed rather boringly. The students in the stands, despite their preferential champion, were all growing restless in unanimous boredom.

At one minute past the hour, the surface finally broke as Cedric Diggory emerged, clutching his arms around a very wet Hogwarts student, one year below Carolina that she recognized as the Ravenclaw seeker. She didn't know her name though, preferring not to bother with the younger students. But she did recognize her as Diggory's date from the Yule Ball. She looked rather frazzled, fully dressed in her Hogwarts robes that were now making it hard for her to swim to the dock.

Again, the headmasters and Ludo Bagman helped haul the two onto the platform.

Carolina was now rather annoyed. Apparently, all that the champions had needed to do was navigate through the murky waters until they found their person to rescue. Anyone with a half decent stunning spell to ward off the Grindylows could have succeeded. Besides, at best the task tested the bravery and quick-thinking of the contestants, but it was still rather ill-designed when one took into consideration the aspect of audience engagement. She much preferred the entertainment value of fighting a dragon to an hour of swimming beneath the black lake.

Suddenly, the water broke again as Victor Krum erupted. In his arms was the Gryffindor fourth year that had accosted Carolina the year before about borrowing her book on lawful punishment of creatures and beasts in Wizarding Britain—Hermione Granger.

So Felix wasn't the only one of his friends who had found a Hogwarts student to be sweet on?

She turned to Felix, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know he liked her that much."

Felix merely shrugged, turning back to the excitement below, as Potter had just shot out of the water, with a little girl and Fred and George's little brother.

All of them swam towards the dock, with Delacour quickly pulling the little girl to her. They did look awfully alike; perhaps they were sisters…

Carolina turned her attention to Dumbledore, who was chatting seriously with a grey, humanlike creature on the edge of the lake. A merperson, Carolina realized as the creature gestured beneath the water.

So, Hogwarts was home to mermen and merwomen as well as a giant squid, centaurs and whatever else was housed in the Forbidden Forest…

After their conversation, the merperson slipped back into the murky waters as Dumbledore turned to confer with the other four judges.

A few minutes later, they all turned towards the waiting crowds, the results of the second task decided upon.

"Absolutely despicable," Carolina muttered to herself as she trudged out of the stands with Felix who also looked rather glum. How could Dumbledore have awarded Potter with points he didn't even earn once again? It was absolutely deplorable in her opinion. What was the point of even having rules—or time restrictions—if a contestant was rewarded for breaking them? It was obvious favoritism…

"You know, he did the same thing three years ago," Carolina said to Felix who looked at her uncertainty, whether from true curiosity or the inability to understand her, she wasn't sure but she continued anyways. "Potter and his friends snuck out after curfew, cursed their fellow student, trespassed upon a corridor that was forbidden to students, broke into a school vault and were rewarded fifty points each."

"He is like Victor to Professor Karkaroff," Felix responded, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah. It's… it's… maddening!" Carolina finished angrily, staring daggers at the Gryffindor second years a few paces ahead of her. "Anyways," she finished, uncertain of what to talk about besides the tournament with Felix. Then, a thought came to her. She looked to Felix nervously. He seemed unperturbed by the momentary silence between them.

"So, we have this thing called Hogsmeade—well, it's a place, a town rather, not a thing—and we sometimes go there on the weekend," she looked at him hopefully, while inwardly cringing. She probably sounded like a complete dolt.

"Anyways, it's next weekend and I thought maybe we could, you know, go together, that is if you wanted to. We definitely don't need to if you'd rather not, I just thought—"

"You are asking me on a date?" Felix said, smiling down at her, laughter in his eyes. "You are using many words. You can just say to me 'Handsome Felix, will you and I go on a date?'"

Carolina let out a guffaw in relief, before covering her mouth in embarrassment at the sound that she just released.

"So yes?" She smiled up at him.

"I am saying yes, yes," Felix replied, taking her hand.

Carolina grinned as they walked together a few more yards before he turned to return to his boat and she to the common room to finish her Potions Homework.

* * *

"Oh, Carolina you look so cute! That is definitely the outfit!" Abigail, squealed as Carolina exited their bathroom, smiling hesitantly at the two girls who were perched on Carolina's bed.

Delia nodded appreciatively. "Where were you hiding that dress? I totally would have borrowed it!"

Carolina was wearing the dragon skin dress her mother had gotten her over the summer, but with tights underneath this time, and a warm sweater. It was still March, after all.

Abigail flopped backwards onto Carolina's pillow with a loud sigh. "I wish I could go on my first date again!"

"Awwww!" Delia added simperingly. "I forgot that you had never been asked to Hogsmeade before!" She added a smirk at the end, for good measure.

Carolina rolled her eyes. Delia was always trying to belittle her. This time, it wouldn't work. Delia was going with Graham again and both girls knew that despite Felix's inability to fully communicate, he was older, taller and handsomer than any of the boys in their year.

"Yup," Carolina said, ignoring Delia's look and turning to face her reflection in the mirror.

She did look quite nice. The cardigan was a little frumpy, but hopefully when they got to the Three Broomsticks, she could take it off.

"Carolina," Abigail said suddenly, sitting upright. "You _need_ to take off those tights! You have such nice legs!"

In the mirror, Carolina could see Delia roll her eyes.

"Thanks, Abigail," Carolina said simply before looking down at her wristwatch. "Oh, is that the time? I am supposed to meet him in front of the castle in two minutes!"

"You're going to be late!" Abigail said alarmed, before jumping up and ushering Carolina out of the doorway.

After running down the staircase to the common room, Carolina slowed to a casual walk. She smiled to herself. She had lied to Abigail and Delia. In truth, she had almost ten minutes to walk up the moving staircases to the entryway, but had preferred to disentangle herself from their endless opinions on her outfit, hair, makeup, shoes, breasts, legs, bum, spots, and general like-ability.

It wasn't that she wasn't thinking about those things anyways. She was. In fact, if she had anyone to tell it to, she might have revealed how self conscious she felt that her outfits, hair, makeup, shoes, breasts, legs, bum, spots and general likeability took up so much of her consciousness. Anyways, she just wasn't sure she trusted Abigail or Delia's opinions on the matter. After all, their taste in boys was poor enough to indicate that their opinion certainly had flaws.

"Felix!" She called out, having made it to the top of the staircases, walking towards the great doors that opened to the old stone courtyard. He was standing by one of the overlooks, staring out at the forest, but turned when he heard her, grinning.

She approached him shyly. It was only 10 am, and still rather early for couples to be leaving for the wizarding village. She had planned it this way, not wanting to run into any of her housemates on her first date.

"Hi," she said, breathlessly, finally reaching him.

"Hello, Carolina," he replied, before leaning in and kissing her cheek.

After exchanging brief pleasantries, they set off on the walk to Hogsmeade in a comfortable silence.

Carolina marveled at how unperturbed he appeared, at all given times. How casual he had been for the months that he had said hello to her at every meal. How he had seemed confident that she would say yes to going to the ball with him. How none of the nervous energy that was constantly pulsing through her body in his presence was visible in him.

Still, despite the comfort, she didn't really know him, she reminded herself. She didn't know his favorite subject, nor what he wanted to do after school, anything about him really except that he was a muggleborn who used to dance ballet, and who seemed well liked and even highly regarded among his friends.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt Felix grasp her hand as they passed along the dirt path.

"Hogsmeade is the only all-wizarding village in Britain. It was founded in the 1500s by Hengist of Woodcroft who was fleeing persecution and settled here," she started nervously, feeling that something _should_ be said, despite not knowing what.

"Hm," Felix said non-committedly. "At Durmstrang, one could still be walking from here and not leaving the school property."

"Really? The grounds are that big?" Carolina responded, hoping that if she prompted him to say more, he would.

Felix opened his mouth as if to expand but paused, before shutting it after a simple "yes."

Carolina turned her head to look at the scenery as they walked by. The trees were just beginning to grow buds again, but the landscape was mostly brown and grey, with the occasional outcropping of pine trees. It would really be quite nice to date someone who she could talk to.

She showed him all the shops, including her favorite old book store, and even took him to stop by the hill that overlooked the Shrieking Shack. When they reached the vista, Felix had once again resisted any serious conversing, preferring to snog in the shade of the birch trees to the side of the path.

By the time they reached the Three Broomsticks for lunch, Carolina felt rather jaded, having had to hold up the entire conversation on her own for the last hour and a half or so.

They quickly got a small table in the back of the pub and Felix retreated to the bar to order them each a pint of butterbeer.

He returned, not with two glasses, but to Carolina's surprise, with four.

"They are having Pilsner here as well as Butter!" He exclaimed, jovially.

"Pilsner?" Carolina questioned looking at the pints. She could tell that two of them weren't butterbeer; they weren't as golden, nor as frothy. And they seemed for carbonated.

"It is what I am drinking when I am not at school," Felix explained.

"Oh. So it's muggle?"

"Yes!" He took a large gulp, grinning. "You are having to be more careful than with Butter—"

"Butterbeer," she corrected.

"Yes, than with butterbeer, because it is having more alcohol."

Carolina sniffed the pint. It certainly didn't smell as good as butterbeer.

"You are obligated to try it!" He exclaimed after another gulp, smiling brightly.

Carolina was rather curious as to what muggles drank, so she lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip. It was strange. It was more watery than butterbeer, richer too. It was savory, and tasted a bit of bread, but with a kick. It wasn't half bad. She took another sip, before nodding at him. "Not bad," she gave him a soft smile.

About an hour later, Felix had gone through two more pints of the Pilsner, as well as finishing the one butterbeer he had gotten. Carolina herself had just started working on her second, but was distracted as she marveled at the change in Felix's demeanor.

Gone was the subdued, passive and quiet Danish boy; he had been replaced by a talkative, excitable lookalike who was constantly laughing and interrupting himself.

Carolina scooted her chair closer to his, so that the side of their legs were touching, feeling that she was finally being rewarded for her patience. Sure, his grammar had plummeted, and many of his sentences weren't fully intelligible, but this was certainly an improvement in her books. There was no evidence of his previous self-restraint, no trace of his self-consciousness at the language barrier. She certainly was a fan of the muggle Pilsner now.

"You are knowing why it was that I was asking you to Ball, yes?" Felix said, resting his arm on the back of her chair and facing her seriously.

"No," Carolina giggled.

"You were reading my favorite book."

"I was? What was it?" She was having a hard time recalling the memory; her mind felt as if it was encased in its own bubble head charm, and she couldn't really focus on anything except the way that his blond hair framed his long face.

"A Clockwork Orange."

"Oh!" Carolina remembered. "But that was months ago!" She had read the book and felt that there were certain things that she just couldn't understand because of being a witch and had felt relatively unsatisfied by the end.

"It was on first night, yes," Felix said, smiling again at her. Well, Carolina certainly understood liking someone for what they were reading. If anything, that was a very respectable judge of character—the literature that one consumed.

"I really loved it," Carolina lied. "You'll have to tell me more muggle books to read."

"You will have to visit Denmark bookstore near my house—perhaps you can be visiting in the summer—"

Carolina interrupted him with a kiss, to which he responded enthusiastically. The muggle drink was making her feel braver than she normally felt, and that, bolstered by the genuine adoration she felt for Felix after his sociable display and the revelation that he fancied her because of her taste in books, had erased any inhibitions she had felt about public displays of affection.

She leaned even further into him and soon his hands were in her loose hair, pulling their faces together roughly. His mouth tasted like the muggle drink, which Carolina didn't completely despise, though his kisses were rather sloppier and his hands slightly rougher than normal.

Still, she had decided a few weeks after the Yule Ball, that she quite enjoyed snogging.

He pulled her even closer, so that she could only be comfortable with her legs draped across his lap, and his hand made its way to neck where his thumb traced her jawline as they kissed.

Suddenly, Carolina felt a terrible drenching wetness down her back. She yanked herself apart from Felix with a yelp and clutched at her back to see what it was. Her dress was soaked, as she had removed her cardigan after the first Pilsner, and the liquid had seeped through her tights and into the seat of her underwear as well.

She spun around in her seat to look for the culprit. Her eyes narrowed as they found a tuft of red hair, pushing its way through the crowd to the bar. It was Weasley, an empty flagon clutched in his hand.

She jumped up, oblivious to Felix's confused protestations.

"Oi!" She shouted, but he didn't seemed to hear her over the din of the packed pub, so she quickly pushed her way up to him at the bar and grabbed his shoulder, giving him a vengeful shake. "What the bloody hell do you think you're playing at?!" She yelled angrily, fire burning through her veins.

Fred turned to look at her lazily. "Slip of the hand," he said, wiggling his fingers through the air in front of her face as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's likely," she seethed. Fred didn't seem to care to listen to her as he turned back to the bar, raising his hand for the barmaids attention, which only caused Carolina's rage to increase.

"Weasley!" She yelled to attract his attention again. "What is your problem?"

"It was an accident, _Flint,_ " he said nastily.

"Then why don't I hear you apologizing?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry I interrupted your precious snogging," he said snidely.

"That's—that's," Carolina spluttered, indignant. "That's not the point! You spilled butterbeer on me deliberately. I should take points away from that."

"Go ahead," Fred said boredly as he collected his new full flagon of butterbeer. "It would still be worth it." With that, he turned on his heel, refusing to make eye contact with the fuming Slytherin, and headed back into the crowd.

Carolina felt like screaming. Why couldn't she have just one nice thing? Why did he have to go out of his way to ruin everything? It was just like being a second year again, when he would charm library books to fly at her head, or transfigure her pumpkin juice into bat's blood.

She walked back over to Felix who had now finished another pint of the Pilsner. His eyes now had a slightly unfocused quality to them. As she sat down with a humph, he leaned back in to kiss her. He put his arms around her again but this time, Carolina didn't find his sloppy kisses to be nearly as endearing as they had felt before.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _As always, thank you to my reviewers; your notes inspire me to continue writing this story! Let me know what you all think of Carolina's first date! :-)_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

Carolina awoke at 6:30 AM on her final day at Hogwarts for the year, two long hours before she would have liked to have risen, and after a fitful and restless sleep. She quietly tiptoed into the bathroom, nervous to rouse her roommates and face the wrath that an annoyed Delia could unleash.

She absently cast an impenetrable charm on the bathroom door, before running her shower, stripping off her pajamas, and clambering in.

It was scalding hot, but Carolina paid it no mind; her thoughts were elsewhere, beyond registering physical discomfort. As she washed her hair and soaped her arms and legs, all she could see before her eyes was Cedric Diggory's dead body, lying face first in the muck of the quidditch pitch, with Harry Potter splayed over him, sobbing. It had happened as if in slow motion. They had suddenly appeared with a pop and the crowd had erupted into cheers. The Hogwarts band had started playing, confetti had been thrown into the air and everything was joyful chaos until… well, until they noticed that one of the boys wasn't moving. Then, there had been the terrible cries of the man she assumed to be Cedric's father as he rocketed down through the stands and fell to his knees before his son's unmoving body.

She shuddered as a chill passed through her body, despite the hot water.

Carolina rinsed her hair and turned off the shower, deciding that she might as well go for a walk before breakfast was served, just to enjoy the boundless beauty of the Hogwarts grounds before she was confined to the streets of London for the summer. She brushed her teeth and combed through her damp hair, before performing a perfunctory drying spell and exiting the bathroom.

She slipped into a light summer dress and grabbed a sweater, aware that it was just after dawn and that there was probably a chill still prominent in the air, despite it being late June.

She packed away her toiletries into her trunk, as well as the few remaining books on her night table and left the dormitory.

As she wandered through the empty corridors and up the moving staircases, she couldn't help but remember Dumbledore's words of warning from the final feast last night.

The banners that usually displayed the winner of the House Cup had been turned black in mourning and the Headmaster had peered out into the nervous, somber crowds with a serious, saddened look. "Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

So, according to Potter, You-Know-Who was back. And apparently, he had killed Cedric Diggory for merely being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Carolina had been at first suspicious that Potter had been lying. He was quite an attention seeker, after all. From what she had heard from her fellow Slytherins, she wouldn't put it past him to elaborate on his tragic story however... she had indeed been witness to his and Diggory's return. If he was an actor, he was certainly a good one.

Her mind flashed back to the young Gryffindor, grasping at Diggory's shoulders, blood and dirt covering his robes and skin, wailing soundlessly.

She shook her head, as if to shake the image from her mind's eye. She had reached the edge of the lake and she paused for a moment, looking out at the Durmstrang ship that sat anchored near the boat house and her mind slipped into remembering her and Felix's short conversation yesterday on the lawn between snogging.

Apparently, Felix's headmaster, Professor Karkaroff had run off or gone missing. This wasn't an issue, according to him, as the students controlled the boat anyways but still… it was rather suspicious. Why had he suddenly disappeared?

Anyways, regardless of Potter's motives, both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape seemed to believe his story, and there certainly were no Professors she trusted the opinion of more. Her mind flashed back to the scarred but kind face of Professor Lupin, and she wondered briefly what he would have made of all this.

As Carolina stood, staring out at the lightening morning sky and flattened clouds that reflected off the surface of the lake, she noticed a small speck in the sky, just above the forest. It seemed to be flying at her. She squinted, just able to make out its wings.

It grew bigger until she recognized that it was an owl. But who would be writing to her? Surely not her mother; she only wrote when Carolina had done something upsetting and Carolina couldn't remember breaking any social graces since rejecting Goyle before the Yule Ball…

The owl certainly was heading straight for her as it swooped down and dropped a letter before her. Carolina had to quickly dart her hand out to grab it, catching it just before the envelop would have fallen into the murky depths of the lake.

On the front was her name in fancy script and on the back… how strange! The seal of the Ministry of Magic bound the letter shut. She ripped it open, curious as to its contents.

" _Dear Ms. Flint,_

 _We are happy to announce that you have been accepted into the Ministry of Magic summer internship program at the recommendation of Prof. Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You have been assigned to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the desk of Amelia Bones, Director. Please be in attendance at your training session on July 1st at 9 o'clock in the morning. Failure to show, or extreme tardiness, will result in a rescindment of your position. Professional attire is expected of all internship candidates. Your position may be terminated at any time if your supervisor deems you unsatisfactory._

 _Welcome to the Ministry!_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Marty G. Crowell, Internship Program Director"_

Carolina stared down at the parchment in awe. Professor Snape hadn't mentioned to her that he had recommended her for the internship program! She hadn't thought to apply until after her seventh year. She felt her face break into a grin and she tucked the parchment into her pocket and turned back to the castle. She ran through the dewy grass in long excited strides. She had to thank him! She felt so honored and all her previous grievances with the Potions Master when he had ignored her so rudely after those embarrassing dance lessons evaporated into thin air.

She burst into the great hall, but her grin dropped as she scanned the hall. Breakfast had just barely started and only a few early risers were present. And Snape's seat at the professor's table was surreptitiously empty. She sighed. Perhaps he was having a lie-in. He deserved it, she supposed. Teaching was just as much work as being a student.

She took her seat at the Slytherin table, her eyes expectantly watching the great oaken doors for his familiar figure to appear.

Minutes passed. Carolina chewed her food slowly and deliberately, making each bite last as long as possible, waiting for Professor Snape to walk into the hall.

After about half an hour, Adrian entered, sleep still present in his blue eyes which absently found Carolina's and smiled, walking over to sit with her.

"Who are you looking for?" He said as he sat down, pulling bacon onto an empty plate, after realizing that her gaze hadn't been meant for him.

"Snape."

"He isn't at the professors' table?"

Carolina shook her head, keeping her eyes trained on the doorway.

Adrian shrugged, content to chomp away on his breakfast.

Another half hour passed and the hall was chock full of students, tearfully exchanging correspondences and promising to write each other. Once again, a figure walked through the doors and caught Carolina's eyes, but it wasn't who she wished would.

Felix, assuming Carolina's intense gaze had been meant for him, rushed over to their table.

"Carolina, you would take a walk with me?"

Carolina shook her head, before pausing and tearing her eyes away from the entryway to look at her… well, he wasn't her boyfriend, but her Felix. "After breakfast."

She sat, having finished her breakfast much earlier, as Felix awkwardly tried to make conversation to an ever grumpier Carolina.

It didn't seem that Professor Snape was showing up, and now she had agreed to walk with Felix so she wouldn't have time to go to his office before boarding the train.

"I have finished. You would take a walk with me now?"

Carolina sighed. She supposed breakfast was almost over and if the Potions Master had wanted to show up, he would have done so by now.

"Ok."

Carolina and Felix walked side by side, neither daring to reach out for the other's hand as they were so used to doing, down the row between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, before reaching the entry hall.

Finally, Felix took her elbow, guiding her out of the doors to stand to the side in the courtyard. He paused, looking at her seriously.

He leaned in, dragging his hand from his elbow to cradle her cheek, and kissed her. It was a very solemn kiss and Carolina fought the urge to laugh at the absurdity of her situation. They had been snogging for almost exactly six months, sometimes going a bit beyond purely snogging, and he had never asked her to be his girlfriend, and now he expected a tearful, heartfelt goodbye?

He pulled away, running his knuckle across her cheek. "You will write me?"

Carolina, for her part, felt surprised with herself. She wasn't as sad as she thought she would be, saying goodbye to her first kiss.

"Only if you write me," she smiled, knowing in the back of her head that this had probably been just a bit of fun for him, and that he would not be writing her. He hadn't committed to anything beyond being her date to the ball. It had been a bit of fun for him, just like staying at Hogwarts for the year.

He leaned in to kiss her again and Carolina felt nothing except the wetness of his lips. He pulled back, looking forlorn. She put her hand to his cheek and smiled wistfully. "Goodbye, Felix." She gently patted his cheek, before walking back into the castle.

One hour later, Carolina was seated across from Adrian who was looking forlornly out the window of the Hogwarts Express. To his left, Miles was fidgeting unhappily with a chocolate frog box.

"You two have got to be the saddest pair!" He exclaimed finally. "Aren't you the least bit excited for the summer holidays?"

Adrian shrugged, and Carolina furrowed her eyebrows at him, looking up from her book.

"Ades?" She questioned.

"I didn't get to say a proper goodbye to Cleo…" he said, still staring out the window at the rolling greenery.

Carolina raised her eyebrows. Apparently, she hadn't been the only one to have a romance with a foreign student.

"You didn't tell me you had been seeing her after the ball."

"Well, sort of," Adrian trailed off, obviously not interested in conversation.

Miles let out an irritated sigh. "I'll be with the lads." He rolled his eyes and stood up, exiting the compartment and not bothering to shut the door in his exasperation.

Carolina looked back down at the book in her lap, searching for where she had left off.

She found her place in the middle of the page: " _Under the jurisdiction of Horacio P. Billingsworth, the department of Magical Law Enforcement…"_ She had decided to read up on the history of where she would be interning for the summer.

"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you, you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts?"

Carolina looked up from her book yet again. That sounded like Draco's voice from the train hallway. She stood up, putting her bookmark into her book and carefully placing it on the red velvet seat, before peering out the open doorway.

"I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" It was Draco, sandwiched between Crabbe and Goyle, stepping into the compartment next to hers.

"Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well – second – Diggory was the f–"

Carolina's eyes instinctively shut and she put a hand up in front of her face at the bright explosive spellwork that seemed to engulf the three Slytherin fourth years at once.

She quickly pulled her head back into the compartment and looked towards Adrian who seemed to be off in his own world, completely unfazed by what had felt like a firework set off in the train.

She poked her head out again, only to find the Potter, Granger, the Weasley twins' younger brother and… Fred and George, pulling the three passed out Slytherins into the empty compartment across the way.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," Fred said.

"Interesting effect," George said as they finished depositing the bodies, "Who used the furnunculous curse?"

"Me," Carolina heard come from one of the two younger boys.

She decided that enough was enough, and stepped out into the hallway. All of them had returned to the compartment except for Fred, who paused upon seeing her, his hand on the sliding door.

"You ought to have a detention for that," she said matter of factly, crossing her arms.

Fred slowly closes the sliding door and turns to face her, front on. "What are you going to do about it? We aren't at school anymore. You can't dock points, you can't do anything!" He spat.

"I'm just saying, you ought to!" Was her response.

"Flint, for once in your life could you just mind your own business?" He was now openly glaring at her, an expression she was only too used to seeing on his face.

"Not when I see five people ganging up on three fourth years!" She responded defensively.

Fred took in a big breath.

"Did you hear what Malfoy was saying?"

Carolina suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Er, yes?"

"So you know that You-Know-Who is back then. Or maybe you already knew. Your father probably knew. He probably came running when he was called."

"You keep my father out of your mouth!" She fumed.

"Don't deny it! We both heard what your brother said he was doing at the World Cup!"

Carolina felt speechless but forced herself to dispute his assertions anyways. "That's just—that's just—Marcus was just being a prat!"

"You're brother's probably already gotten his tattoo. When's your appointment, huh?"

"I am not my brother!" Carolina said through a tightened throat. Tears were clouding her vision. How could he be this blindsided? This cruel? Her father wasn't a death eater! And it wasn't her fault she was born a Flint.

Fred considered this for a moment. "No, you're not, are you… But you are just another bloody Slytherin! You must be so happy that he's back! Going to rid Britain of all the muggleborns!"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Carolina cried thinking of Felix. She brandished her wand and sent a stinging hex at his cheek. It hit him with a zap and he let out a strangled yelp. She didn't stick around to see his reaction, turning back into her compartment, locking the door and drawing the blinds.

She settled down on the seat across from Adrian and sighed. He had fallen asleep, his face pressed against the window with a small dollop of drool resting on his chin. She was glad for this because it meant she wouldn't have to explain the tears that were now rolling freely down her cheeks.

* * *

 **Author's note:** _Hello all! I'm so glad so many of you are enjoying this story. Over 10,000 views on it now, which is really exciting! Well, sixth year is over—let me know what you thought of it! Very excited to publish the next few chapters as well because the fifth book was one of my favorites. :-) Thanks again for the support._


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-one**

* * *

"Carolina, if you've finished filing those reports, the Minister has moved the disciplinary hearing to courtroom 10." Amelia Bones darted into her office, grabbing a long black robe and cap that had been hanging on a hook on her door.

"Is it going to be a full trial?" Carolina queried, pushing the papers in front of her into a stack. "I'm not quite done, about 25 more."

Amelia Bones donned her robe. "Oh, don't bother. They'll be here when you get back and you can work during lunch. It's not often that you get to witness a full criminal trial as an intern." She placed the hat on her head. "Come now, the hearing starts in ten minutes."

Carolina stood up and straightened her work robes, before following the always immaculate Amelia Bones out of her office, down the hallway, past the Auror department and the misuse of improper magic department and to the lift by the receptionist's desk.

Carolina admired Amelia Bones's rippling robes as they walked, giddy with anticipation about witnessing her first full trial. She had been interning with the Ministry for almost a month now and the most exciting thing that had happened was a bad slew of muggle-object tampering crimes. And of course, the disappearances, but those weren't so much exciting as rather scary.

And today she would get to see the full Wizengamot in session! For a brief moment, she envisioned herself in Amelia's robes, leading around a faceless intern, and she grinned as they stepped into the lift.

"What is the trial for? I didn't see any casework for a full criminal hearing."

"Underage magic… in front of a muggle," Amelia replied, studying the interdepartmental memo in front of her. "It wasn't going to be a big enough case to require my presence but the Minister requested a full hearing…" she trailed off.

"That's… odd," Carolina said. Usually only violent crimes, or gigantic heists got use of the old courtrooms.

"Quite," was the short response she received.

"Department of Mysteries," chimed the lift voice as the elevator came to a hurtling stop.

Carolina felt her breath hitch. Working in these courtrooms, this was all she had ever dreamed of, and now she got to be there… well, intern there, she supposed. She wasn't being paid, but it was almost like she was working.

"Now, Carolina, I will need your utmost discretion," Amelia said as they walked down the hall. "It appears to me," she motioned to the paper in her hand, "that this is a classmate of yours and I have half a mind to send you straight up back to your desk."

"Yes, ma'am," Carolina replied carefully, hoping that her curiosity wouldn't show through her straight face.

"Good. Now, it is important that you don't say a word when we enter the courtroom. You are there only to take notes, is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said again, nodding seriously and gripping her quill and parchment to her chest.

"Ah yes, here we are," Amelia said, stopping in front of a large black door. She pushed it open and strutted into the room confidently, Carolina hurrying along at her heels.

It was magnificent. The Wizengamot members hadn't fully taken their seats yet, but were milling around, chatting under their breath with each other. As Amelia entered, many heads swiveled her way, nodding and calling out greetings. It had become apparent to Carolina over the past month that her boss was very highly regarded indeed at the Ministry. Sometimes even more so than the Minister himself.

The ceiling was so high, nearly two stories and the Wizengamot seats were descending in a semicircle made of a shimmering black wood and faced a single chair in the center of the room. From the arms and legs of the chair hung shackles that looked rather dusty from Carolina's vantage.

She followed Amelia who was currently being greeted rather coldly by a woman with a square set jaw and badly applied blush.

"Sit, Carolina," Amelia commanded, having finished conversing with the woman with the squashed face. As Amelia sat down, it seemed the rest of Wizengamot hurried to find their seats as well, as if following her cue. "Waiting on the minister, as usual," Amelia whispered into Carolina's ear, gesturing to the empty seat at the center of the room, as Carolina marked the date and time on her parchment.

Just as she did so, the Minister of Magic burst into the room in a huff and angrily took his seat at the front and center of the arena.

"It is now eight o'clock in the morning on the twelfth of August, 1995. With all members of the Wizengamot present," Cornelius Fudge paused and looked around the room, as if daring anyone to be absent, "I will call this court to session. Today we will be deliberating upon the trial of one Harry James Potter for intentional use of underage magic in the presence of a muggle. The Wizengamot will notice that the defendant is," he paused again for dramatic effect, "late." The word rang out into the courtroom and echoed off the stone walls.

It was Potter? Carolina quickly closed her mouth, not realizing that it had dropped open at the sound of his name. She ought not to be surprised. He had a penchant for breaking the rules after all. It did seem highly suspect however, that they would call a full hearing for underage magic in front of a muggle. That, in combination with how the Daily Prophet had been dragging his name through the mud for the past few weeks made her question the motives behind the minister for calling the hearing in the first place. Underage witches and wizards were accidentally performing magic in front of Muggles all the time, after all. True, fifteen was a bit old not to be able to control your magic, but he _was_ still a minor technically.

As if on cue, the doorknob to the courtroom swung open and a frightened looking boy with messy dark hair stepped in. He eyed the Wizengamot fearfully, before his line of sight switched to the ominous chair at the center of the room. He took an uncertain step forward.

"Mr. Potter, if you would… take a seat," Fudge said, gesturing to the chair at the center of the room. Harry approached it slowly, eyeing it as if it would suddenly burst fangs and bite him. "We have a full day and we can't delay this trial any further."

The minister waited as Harry hesitantly sat down.

"I, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic will be officiating today's trial, with the assistance of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, Dolores J. Umbridge. Presiding over the Wizengamot is Chief Warlock and Director of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones. The time is now eight o'seven. Mr. Potter…!" He said, directing his gaze to Harry, "You are charged with the use of the Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle at 9:04 PM, Wednesday August fifth, violating both the law of Underage Magic and the Statute of Secrecy—"

"Witness to the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!" The courtroom door burst open and Carolina was surprised to see her headmaster strut into the circular chamber, his gaze alight with determination as he faced down the Minister.

"I see you got the memo that the time of the trial had been shifted slightly earlier?"

"In fact, I did not… it was just a lucky coincidence that I happened to arrive at the Ministry three hours earlier than scheduled," Dumbledore responded, clasping his hands calmly behind his back.

"Ah, well, good then," Fudge said, shuffling the papers in front of him.

Carolina peaked over at her boss, whose brow was furrowed in concentration. So, the switch from Potter's trial being a simple interview to a full blown Wizengamot court case hadn't been advertised—it seemed as if the office for the Minister had intentionally dropped the ball on sending out advance notice. It was a miracle that so many Wizengamot members showed up in the first place as they had probably received their summons the morning of.

"As I was saying, Mr. Potter, you are accused of—"

"It was only because of the Dementors!" Harry yelled out, rather tactlessly in Carolina's opinion, interrupting the Minister.

"Dementors… in Little Whinging?" Amelia Bones asked, holding her monocle up to her eye to get a better look at the scrawny boy sitting below her.

"Yeah, there were two—"

"Oh, how convenient for you, boy; Muggles can't see dementors so it would be impossible for them to negate your testimonial—" Fudge said, rolling his eyes.

"But they were there!" Harry interrupted again, his eyes widened pleadingly.

"Well, seeing as you don't have any eyewitnesses and we happen to know that all of the dementors at the time were safely guarding Azkaban Prison—"

"Actually, we can produce a witness," Professor Dumbledore said calmly, speaking up for the first time since his arrival, his eyes firmly placed on Fudge.

Carolina raised her eyebrows. Surely they weren't going to bring the muggle that Potter had performed magic in front of into the Ministry for a hearing.

Fudge looked as equally flabbergasted as Carolina felt. Spluttering, he said "but who?"

"Arabella Figg. She's waiting just outside. Shall I bring her in?" Dumbledore asked patiently, seemingly unaware, or perhaps uncaring, that every eye in the courtroom was glued to his face.

Fudge seemed at a lack for words. He opened his mouth as if to say something, before changing his mind and closing it, exchanging looks with the woman with the squashed face to his left.

"Certainly," Amelia said after the momentary pause, taking control of the situation.

Dumbledore walked over to the courtroom entrance, pulled open the door and beckoned to someone waiting out in the hall.

The woman that entered was nothing like Carolina had been expecting. She was older, much older and had a knee length, pleated, floral skirt on, with a yellowing silk blouse tucked into it and a purple crocheted cardigan, all hidden under a rather roomy trench coat. In her hand, she clutched a delicate little purse.

Carolina watched as Dumbledore effortlessly conjured up a nice, cushy armchair for her to sit in, and she cautiously shuffled over.

"Mrs. Arabella… Figg, is it?" Fudge said, after a while.

"I don't believe we have you in our magical registrar," the woman to his left said in a very high pitched voice, her eyebrows knitting in mock concern.

"Well, you wouldn't," said Mrs. Figg primly. "I'm a squib, you see. Daughter of Abernathy and Demelza Figg. My brother is Domonico Figg. He works at the ministry for Magical Maintenance."

Fudge raised his eyebrows but it was the witch to his left at responded. "And seeing as that information isn't verified yet, hm-hm," she let out a little cough.

"Dolores, I'm sure you're aware that we don't have time to officially verify her background given the circumstance of the trial," Amelia cut in. The corners of Carolina's lips turned upwards; she loved seeing her boss in her roll of chief warlock. She was fearless. "In the meantime, are there any employees present who are familiar with a Domonico Figg?" She asked, her hawkish eyes surveying the crowd.

Four wizards raised their hands in response. "It's settled then," Amelia said, crossing her fingers in front of her. "Continue, please."

"I didn't know squibs could see dementors!" Fudge said, finally slipping out of his stupor, glaring down at the little old lady.

"Well, we can," Mrs. Figg said defiantly.

"And what did they look like?"

"Well, one was very big, and the other rather scrawny—"

"Not the boys, the dementors!" Fudge nearly yelled at her.

"Oh! Well… big, cloaked…" she trailed off. "Then, suddenly everything went cold… and dark… and I felt as if, as if all the happiness had been sucked from the world."

Carolina stared, transfixed by the old woman. She had no doubt in her mind that she was telling the truth. She remembered the dementors from two years before, how cold Hogwarts had felt all the time as they had searched the grounds for Sirius Black. But then… that begged the question… what were the dementors doing in a muggle suburb? As the Wizengamot mulled over the squib's testimony, Carolina twirled her wrist, which was growing sore from her rapid note taking for Madam Bones.

"The law states that wizards," boomed out Dumbledore, interrupting the silence of the room, "both underage and not, are allowed to use magic in the presence of a muggle when presented with a life or death situation, and as we are able to produce a witness to the Dementors, there can be no question as to Mr. Potter's innocence in the matter. The real question this jury should be inquiring into is what the two dementors were doing so far away from Azkaban!"

"Surely, Professor, and correct me if I'm wrong," the squashed woman simpered, "you are not supposing that the ministry sent the dementors there!"

"As we have proven the presence of the dementors, there can be only two possible explanations: either yes, Ms. Umbridge, there must have been foul play on the part of the ministry or we must reconcile ourselves to the fact that the dementors are no longer under the control of the ministry and instead under the control of Lord Voldemort! Cornelius, I implore you to see reason!" Dumbledore nearly shouted, his voice gaining momentum as he spoke.

A great many voices broke out at once, among them the Minister's who was saying to those closest to him, "Delusional! Absolutely delusional!"

"Order! Order!" Called out Amelia, as she banged her gavel upon the desktop in front of her. "Minister, I suggest we call the Wizengamot to a vote upon the matter of Mr. Potter's innocence for the sake of timeliness."

"Yes, very well," Fudge said, scowling at Dumbledore.

"All those in favor of the conviction of Mr. Potter," Amelia called out and Carolina watched with widened eyes as a great many of the Wizengamot raised their hands, including the Minister and his undersecretary. "All those in favor of clearing Mr. Potter of all charges," Amelia called out again, raising her own hand this time. A surge of hands shot into the air, nearly two thirds of the entire Wizengamot, and Carolina thought she caught a smirk flit by on her bosses lips as she raised her eyebrows at the Minister. "It's settled than. Mr. Potter, you have been cleared of all charges. Your case is dismissed. Good day," she said nodding as she stood up. "Come along, Carolina," she beckoned to Carolina who hurriedly grabbed all of her bosses papers and followed her as she swept out of the courtroom which was now beginning to fill with noise again.

As Carolina followed down the stairs, trying to organize the papers in her arms, she momentarily looked at Potter, who had stood up and was now walking towards Professor Dumbledore, calling out his name. Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed not to be hearing the young boys calls and had swept out of the room almost faster than Amelia had.

Carolina got shoved to the back of the lift as more and more Wizengamot members pushed themselves on and she wasn't able to disembark at her normal floor even, so packed was the elevator, so it wasn't until nearly five minutes later that Carolina wound up back at her desk, just outside of Amelia's office.

The door was closed, so Carolina continued to put the papers in chronological order on her desk, before sealing her notes in an envelop and returning to her task from before the trial.

She was just about to start filing again, when the door to her boss's office opened and she was surprised to see both Amelia and Professor Dumbledore step out.

"Thank you for taking the time, Amelia," the Professor was saying, as they shook hands. "I really believe it is something into which inquiry should be made."

"Thank you for the meeting, Professor," Amelia said, nodding gravely. "I think we are in agreement there."

"Amelia, you've been out of my classroom for nearly thirty years now, please call me Albus! Ah, Ms. Flint!" Dumbledore said, turning to Carolina, whose eyes shot open. She had never been formally addressed by the headmaster. "I thought I saw you in the courtroom." He turned back to Amelia. "I hope she is proving to be a worthy assistant."

"More than worthy," Amelia shot back, making Carolina's face turn beet red. Her mouth was suddenly dry and it felt like all of the wetness that had been there formerly was seeping out of her palms. She wasn't used to compliments.

"Yes, Ms. Flint, I'm glad I've run into you. I was hoping to deliver this in person," Dumbledore said, pulling an envelope out of his robe and handing to Carolina's unusually shaky hands.

"Thank you, sir," Carolina said, at a loss for words as she inspected the envelope.

"Well, I'd best be on my way. Have to find a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, after all. I couldn't tempt you into the position, could I, Amelia?"

"I think after what we just discussed, I'm rather needed here," Amelia said gravely.

"So you are, so you are. Ms. Flint, I'll see you at school," Professor Dumbledore said, nodding slightly with a twinkle in his eye as he gracefully exited from view, heading down the long hallway to the lift.

Carolina stared after him absently.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Amelia said, leaning against her doorway with her arms crossed.

"What?" Carolina said, before remembering the envelope in her hands. "Oh! Yes, of course!" She tore open the seal and pulled out a piece of parchment. She didn't even have to read the letter to know what it said, for as she pulled it out, a small green and gold pin in the shape of the Hogwarts crest with the word "Head Girl" etched across it fell into her hands and a gigantic smile broke across her face.

"I'd like to be the first to congratulate you, Carolina," Amelia said, shaking her hand.

"Thank you!" Carolina said excitedly, inspecting the pin.

"If you'd like, you may take the rest of the day off, you've had quite an exciting day," Amelia offered generously.

"If I may ma'am, I'd like to continue working," Carolina said unable to control her grin.

Amelia laughed. "I certainly won't object to that! Do you have the notes from the trial?"

"With a table of contents," Carolina said happily, handing Amelia the notes, who took them back into her office.

Carolina giddily plopped down into the chair behind her desk and let out a breath, her smile still in tact upon her face. It was only ten in the morning and this had already turned into the best day of her life.

So it was with a certain bounce in her step that she flooed home that evening to her London townhouse, only to have her good mood diminished by the sight of Marcus and one of his teammates, sitting on the couch when she stepped out of the chimney.

"Oh, you're here," she said coldly.

"Carolina!" Her mother hissed, "we have a guest!"

"Sorry," Carolina said icily, attempting to move past the couch and retreat to her room.

"Carolina," her mother said again, this time more sternly. "Please, do sit down."

Carolina paused, closing her eyes and readying herself, before turning around and plopping down into an dragon leather armchair to the left of the couch.

"Marcus, introduce your friend," her mother said, and Carolina watched as Marcus rolled his eyes. Apparently he wanted to be here just as much as she did.

"This is Rosier," Marcus said, gesturing to the man next to him.

"Call me Dorian, only the lads call each other by last names," the man said charmingly.

"He plays seeker on the Falcons with Marcus!" Her mother said excitedly. "Marcus you really ought to bring your teammates around more often!"

Marcus opened his mouth, his expression twisted into something nasty but Dorian cut across him.

"We weren't planning on visiting," he told Carolina conspiratorially, "but we ran into your charming mother in Diagon Alley and how could we refuse?"

"Oh!" Her mother giggled, eliciting a groan from both Marcus and Carolina.

After a moment's pause, Carolina decided to carry on the conversation. "Did you go to Hogwarts, Dorian? I don't recognize you."

"I did, but I'm about four years older than your brother, so we unfortunately didn't get to cross paths…" the young man drawled.

Now that Carolina got a proper look at him she could understand her mother's odd behavior. He was quite handsome. He had luxurious hair and a small mustache and goatee adorning his face and his eyes shined brightly. He was probably a head taller than Marcus, and significantly more muscular.

"Oh…" Carolina trailed off, admiringly, before catching herself staring and continuing the conversation. "And what house were you in?"

"Only the best house, Slytherin," he smirked.

"Oh, those are welcome words indeed in this household!" Carolina's mother tittered again.

It was rather disgusting to watch her mother lose her marbles over a twenty four year old, Carolina decided.

"Will you two stay for dinner?" Her mother queried.

"No!" Marcus nearly yelled.

"We'd love to!" Dorian said at the same time, although looking at Carolina as if she had asked them to stay.

"It's settled then," their mother said, rising from her chair. "Where is our useless house elf? I'll tell her to set two more plates!" She said, wandering off into the dining room and leaving the other three to sit in an uncomfortable silence. Dorian however, didn't seem too perturbed.

"What's that you have in your hand there?" He asked, motioning to envelope clutched in Carolina's hand that she had intended to show her parents upon flooing home.

Carolina looked at it, having completely forgotten that she was still holding it. "Er, well, I was made Head Girl today—Dumbledore gave me the letter himself," she added, bragging to Marcus's handsome mate.

"Then it's just as the Prophet's been saying, he's finally lost it," Marcus said cuttingly.

"Marcus, come here a moment!" Carolina heard her mother call from the room over. Groaning, Marcus stood up and shot an apologetic look towards Dorian, as if leaving him in Carolina's presence was the worst possible insult.

Carolina glared at him for good measure, but fixed her expression quickly upon Dorian's chuckle.

"Head Girl, then? Good for you."

"Thank you," she responded politely, adjusting her skirt that had ridden up her leg.

Dorian stared at her for a moment before adding, "you know, Flint mentioned that he had a little sister but I didn't think that she'd be so… stimulating…" he trailed off, eying her legs.

"Well, he's certainly never mentioned you," Carolina responded, raising an eyebrow. Dorian was handsome, it was true, but Carolina could already peg exactly what type of Quidditch player he was; it seemed he was used to having witches melt at his comments. Seekers were, in her opinion, often the most arrogant.

Dorian laughed. "So, Carolina, if you're head girl, you must be of age."

"I am," Carolina replied slowly, eying him.

"Carolina! Dorian! Come in for dinner!" Her mother yelled from the other room.

The pair stood up and he motioned for her to walk first, before leaning in and whispering to her, "well, I for one, am glad to hear it."

Dinner was rather boring; the only thing Carolina's mother and father wanted to discuss were the Falcons, and what Dorian thought of the new coach, and what the odds were they would win the season, and whether the Wasps had blackmailed the referees.

In fact, she was so thoroughly put off by their obvious preference for Marcus over her that she decided to deny them the knowledge, and subsequent bragging rights, of finding out that she had been made Head Girl.

Throughout the meal, Carolina couldn't shake the feeling of being watched and it made her rather hot and itchy. Every time she looked up from the food on her plate, she caught the gaze of the man sitting across from her, and she quickly averted her eyes back down the plate.

By the meal's end, she was thoroughly ready to scurry away and retreat to her bedroom, however upon getting up from the table and heading to the hallway up to the staircase, she was stopped.

She felt a warm hand grip her shoulder and easily swing her around so that she was face to face with Dorian.

"And where are you running off to?" Carolina noticed that despite the fact that he had succeeded in his goal and had delayed her escape, he hadn't taken his hand from her shoulder.

"To my room," she said plainly, particularly aware of the heat radiating from his palm, but deciding it best not to show her nervousness at his lingering touch.

"You could show me, I'd love to see where Marcus grew up," Dorian said.

"We didn't share a room," Carolina corrected him.

"You could show me, anyways." Dorian's hand slowly moved from her shoulder to her neck, where his thumb pushed against her jawbone, pulling the skin backwards slightly.

"I—" Carolina started, for once in her life at a loss for the right words.

"I can hardly believe you and Marcus are related you know," Dorian said, stepping even closer. "Don't get me wrong, he's a good mate, but he isn't the most… inspiring to look at… where as you…" his eyes travelled down from hers to roam over her body, and Carolina felt an awkward chuckle escape from her chest. "You're quite pretty when you smile," Dorian continued quietly, his eyes finally moving back up to hers.

Carolina watched with bated breath as his eyelids suddenly fluttered closed and his face closed in on hers, and she knew, before it was going to happen, that he would kiss her. In fact, she thought as his lips touched hers, she felt that she had known it since he had asked her about the letter in her hand.

His breath was hot and his lips were sticky and his hands were roving. She decided she didn't like it as much as snogging Felix, when he suddenly pushed his entire tongue into her mouth and she fought the urge to gag as his hand wrapped tightly around the back of her neck. She tried to pull away slightly, finding his kisses far too wet, and his facial hair far too scratchy, but his hand kept her face clamped to his, while his other found its way down to her bum.

"Rosier?"

With a strange, loud sucking sound, Dorian separated his mouth from Carolina's, just before Marcus appeared round the corner.

"Let's get out of here; we told the lads we'd meet them hours ago."

Dorian smirked, turning from Carolina (who's face had gone beetroot red at the prospect of Marcus walking in on her and his mate) as if he had forgotten she'd ever been there. "Good call," he said.

The two walked back down the hallway, and out into the living room and Carolina felt frozen, unsure what had just happened, or why it had even happened, or what she was supposed to do now.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, she was saved from making any decisions as her mother called from the next room, "Carolina, come say goodbye to your brother!"

Carolina drew in a large breath and wiped her lips which felt swollen and tender to the touch, before joining the rest of her family and their guest.

"Are you sure you don't want to floo, I'd feel much better about it," their mother fussed.

"I've had my apparation license for years now," Marcus refuted.

"Well, if you're sure… Dorian, it was lovely to meet you, please do come again!"

"You too, ma'am, and I certainly will endeavor to do so," he smirked again.

"Carolina, say goodbye to our guests," her mother hissed at her, unceremoniously.

"Bye," Carolina said, unable to meet Dorian's eyes and opting instead to stare at his shoes.

"Again, thank you for having me… Mrs. Flint," Dorian said, smiling a rather flirtatious smile at her mother, before disapparating with a pop.

Just then, a loud crash came from the kitchen and Carolina's mother's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Oh, that daft house elf! Marcus, please stop by for dinner more often," she said, kissing her son's cheeks before retreating to the kitchen where they could hear her shrill voice yelling obscenities at the house elf.

Carolina looked up from the rug to find Marcus gazing nastily at her.

"You stay away from my mates," he hissed.

"Gladly," Carolina responded, feeling slightly back in her element now that Dorian had left the premises.

"You shouldn't think you're anything special," Marcus glared at her, a snide smile appearing on his chapped lips. "He's like that with all girls."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Carolina responded harshly, deciding it best to deny any and all of his assertions.

"Don't be daft, I saw you two in the hallway… are you just as much a slut at Hogwarts as you are in your parent's house?" He said cruelly.

"I didn't ask for him to do that!" Carolina shot back angrily.

"Carolina, give your brother a hug and let him be on his way; we can't leave his friend waiting too long!" Their mother said as she briskly walked back into the room.

"Carolina!" She emphasized again, when Carolina made no inclination of hugging her brother.

"Fine," Carolina responded. Giving Marcus a hug was the last thing in the world she wanted to do just now, but she just didn't have the energy to argue with her mother just now.

She approached Marcus and gave him a one armed hug. He responded with the same amount of enthusiasm, but held her roughly as she tried to pull away and whispered in her ear low enough that their oblivious mother couldn't hear him: "You may fool our parents, but I see you for what you really are, a muggle-loving slut!"

With that, he pushed her away and disappeared on the spot. Carolina felt her blood boil at his words and it took all of her might for her not to pull her wand out of her pocket and curse the part of the rug on which he had been standing.

And how utterly hypocritical for him to call her a slut when he had previously professed that his friend was like that with all girls! Oh, she wished he hadn't left so quickly so that she could prove him wrong—prove to him that his mental functions were, once again, lacking and waning in comparison to hers.

Fuming, she marched from the room, finally able to seclude herself in her bedroom, where she continued on in a foul mood until she fell asleep far too late, her perfect day ruined by her twatty older brother and his twatty older friend.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hello and once again, thank you to my reviewers! It's been a busy week for me and your reviews definitely inspired me to take some time to continue writing. I hope everyone enjoys my take on Harry's trial... it was fun getting to imagine Amelia Bones. She'll definitely come up again in the story. As always, please let me know your thoughts!_


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

Carolina stood in front of the first car of the Hogwarts Express and nimbly pinned her Head Girl badge to the front of her robes. She pulled her sleeve to cover her fingers and gently rubbed it, watching it glint in the morning sunlight and smiled to herself.

The platform wasn't too crowded yet; only a handful of families stood together saying their goodbyes. Mostly first years, by the look of the minuscule students who stood nervously in front of their tearing up parents. She had decided to apparate there by herself. Her father hadn't stepped foot on the platform since dropping off Marcus for his first year and she had told her mother that she needn't worry about chaperoning her.

She wasn't sure why she had felt the need to be there alone… perhaps because it was her last time taking the train to Hogwarts, but she had wanted to spend a moment on the platform without the rush of finding a compartment. Or perhaps it was so that she could scope out who the Head Boy would be. If she had been asked her prediction for the position three months ago, there would have been no doubt in her mind which student would have been picked… But, Cedric had been… she shuddered, thinking about it… murdered.

She closed her eyes briefly, thinking again of Dumbledore's words of warning at the end of the last term and of his words to the minister at Potter's trial: "Cornelius, I implore you…"

Carolina opened her eyes, determined not to dwell too much on something over which she had no power. She needed to focus on her responsibilities as Head Girl. That was what she could control. Her mind slid back to the candidates for Head Boy.

Surely, it wouldn't be Miles, he was too crude. The Gryffindor prefect had been less than useful… What was his name? Kenneth Towler? Trowler? He could hardly keep his own housemates from pranking him, let alone act as a successful Head Boy.

Then, there was Hufflepuff. She didn't know if there was anyone in their house who could fill Diggory's shoes. And besides, whoever it was certainly wouldn't inspire respect in the student body.

And the Ravenclaw prefect had proved to be a complete doormat as well. Tobias Alpert. One time she had found him studying when he was supposed to be patrolling the third floor.

She was truly at a loss for who it could be. Unless Dumbledore decided not to draw form the prefects for candidates… Miles did seem the most likely after her analysis, and he would make an awful Head Boy, in her opinion.

And if Dumbledore did pick from the rest of the seventh years, it was certainly slim pickings. A scowl fell across her face as she studied the crowds. There was no way in hell that the headmaster would pick one of the other Gryffindors for the job. The only mildly eligible one was Lee Jordan and he did just about anything the bloody Weasley twins asked him to.

"Carolina, right?" She shook her head, a face coming into focus. Apparently, she had been staring into space. It was the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies smiling a rather stupid grin at her.

"Er, yes," she said, confused as to why he would be talking to her just now.

"I see you've got one too," he said motioning to the pin clinging to her robes, and raising his eyebrows.

Carolina looked down, as if surprised to find the pin there, before looking back up at him. Surely not! Davies was downright dim witted. The amount of times she had caught him in the same bloody broom closet with a girl—a head boy should at the very least be thoughtful enough not to hide somewhere he had already been caught.

"You're Head Boy?" Carolina said with an unimpressed sneer.

If Roger saw her look, he certainly didn't show that it registered as he only smiled his great big, toothy grin at her, dimples in tow.

"That's right! And I was thinking that since, well you know, I'm a bit new at this, why don't you take the lead in the meeting?"

Carolina raised her eyebrows. Not only was he dim witted, but he was lazy as well. "Fine."

She quickly turned her back on him, pulled out her wand and levitated her trunk onto the train.

40 odd minutes later, Carolina sat in the large prefect compartment in the first car of the train. Next to her sat Roger and around them, sixteen other students. She recognized a fair few of them, half of them prefects for their second year in a row, although a couple of the names of the fifth years escaped her.

She cleared her throat, realizing that since Roger had no clue what to say, it was up to her to make introductions. "Right, I'm Carolina, head girl, this is…" she gestured to the head boy.

"Roger!" He said jovially with a little wave.

"Before we go over your duties, why don't we all go around and say our names and houses to get to know each other!" She gave a soft smile at the wide eyes around her.

"And your favorite quidditch team!" Roger chimed in.

Carolina's head shot around to glare at him. "Pardon?"

"Well for a proper name game there should be something besides just their names, right?"

Carolina crossed her arms. "Roger, I hardly think we have time for that. They have to start patrolling the train in about ten minutes."

"Nonsense! You're just bitter because you're brother's team lost the league last year!"

Carolina bit her tongue from saying a nasty remark and opted to glare at him instead. He had asked her to lead the discussion earlier! Was he just plain stupid or was this a ploy to make himself the "like-able" Head?

"Right, I'll start. Roger Davies, Ravenclaw, the Wasps!" He said, before turning his head to look at her expectantly. Had he not been listening to her when she had already introduced herself?

Carolina gave him a withering glare before sighing and repeating her introduction. "Carolina Flint, Slytherin, don't care either way for a quidditch team."

She turned expectantly to the student next to her, a Slytherin sixth year, Terrence Higgs. Next to him were three more Slytherins, Draco and Pansy as the fifth years and another sixth year named Isadora. Next to her was a Hufflepuff named Ernie MacMillan who made a huge ordeal about not being able to choose between the Cannons and the Wasps. Next to him Carolina was shocked to find a boy with the familiar blazing red hair: Fred's younger brother. She wouldn't have picked him out as prefect material, especially from what Fred had told her of him nearly two years ago. Seated next to him was the other fifth year Gryffindor prefect, the muggleborn that had borrowed Carolina's book, Hermione Granger. She outright refused to pick a favorite quidditch team, drawing a small victorious smile from Carolina. At least someone else here recognized the idiocy of Roger Davies. After Granger was another Hufflepuff, the four Ravenclaws, and then two more Hufflepuffs and then finally, Carolina was done hearing about their favorite sporting teams.

"Well, now that we know each other, let's go over the basic responsibilities of the prefects," Carolina said, crossing her legs primly. "The bulk of what you will be doing is patrolling the corridors after curfew. Your schedules will be assigned each week. Generally, I like to keep the same schedules each semester to allow for you to fall into a pattern, but things usually get switched around a bit once quidditch practices start up, so if you play for your house team, please let me know when you find out what day your practices will be on.

"Obviously, prefects have the power to deduct house points when they see intolerable or aberrant behaviors that are not in line with the school rule book. We will have a meeting on the evening of the first Wednesday back to go over the rules, all of which I'm sure you are familiar with… It is important to note that although you may deduct points and dole out detentions, it is not advisable to get carried away. Part of Roger's and my job is to keep track of how you are using your powers and report back to the headmaster and your heads of houses. Remember, your badge can be rescinded…" Carolina said seriously, eyeing Draco who was whispering something to Pansy.

"Right, for today, your only responsibilities are to patrol the train and to make sure the first years follow you to your respective houses. If your common room has a password, the head of your house will let you know before the sorting. Now, I've written up the train patrol schedule, if you could pass it around," Carolina finished, passing a few pieces of paper around to be examined. "Like I said, we'll cover more in our first official meeting, like the whereabouts of the prefects' bathroom and other responsibilities. Roger and I will be in this compartment if you happen upon any trouble, but that's rather unlikely..."

"We will?" Roger questioned. "I was going to sit with my mates."

Carolina raised her eyebrows again. She wanted to get a head start on creating their schedules, but she supposed it might get done faster without Roger's help anyways. "Sure, well then, _I_ will be sitting here if you have any trouble," she corrected herself.

"Draco, Pansy, you're up first!" Roger said jovially, before trotting out of the compartment faster than any of the prefects.

As they quietly left, Carolina thought she caught the Weasleys' brother looking worriedly over his shoulder at her, before whispering something conspiratorially to the Granger girl.

Carolina sighed and stood up, moving herself to a seat by the window. She leaned her cheek against the cold glass. So far, her seventh year wasn't off to an entirely inspiring start.

* * *

"Carolina! Did I tell you I went to a Falcons game this summer?" Delia gushed to Carolina. "Your brother wasn't playing, but his teammates were absolutely fit!"

"You're so lucky, you could probably go to a game whenever you wanted," Abigail added dreamily, leaning across the Slytherin table as the rest of the students flooded into the Great Hall.

"I suppose," Carolina said, who in truth had not had one ounce of desire to see her brother play quidditch over the summer. Especially after meeting Dorian. Her mother, on the other hand, had been out most weeknights, watching Marcus practice or else attending matches. That had been fine with Carolina. She preferred an empty house to the formal dinners she was required to attend when her mother cooked.

"How is Marcus, anyways?" Miles cut in.

Carolina shrugged, eliciting a chuckle from Adrian who knew of her feelings towards her brother. She had hardly seen Marcus that summer. He had rented a flat with a few of his teammates and she had conveniently stayed late at the ministry on the nights she knew he would be dining with their parents, assisting Amelia to avoid returning home until she could be sure he had left.

"Carolina, you're quite paler than usual, you know," Delia said, observing her.

Carolina glared at her dorm mate over the table. Why must her appearance be under constant scrutiny? She pursed her lips. "I was working at the ministry over the summer."

"Oh really? How dull!" Abigail responded. "I went to Italy with my father—he's developing a new lemon flavor of gum!"

"Riveting," Carolina said drolly. "Oh look, here come the first years," she continued, silencing her peers with a look.

"They're so small," Adrian said, leaning over to whisper into her ear. "I swear they are shrinking each year!"

Carolina rolled her eyes.

"Oh, so no laughing, now that you're Head Girl, huh?" Adrian continued.

Carolina raised her eyebrows. "I'll laugh when you say something funny, Ades. Now shh!" She said, smiling at him nonetheless. She had missed her friend over the summer. It had been quite educational, working at the ministry, but she did feel particularly deprived of interactions with wizards and witches her own age. The only one she'd had all summer was with Percy bloody Weasley, who was duller than dull and was working in the office of the minister, and even then, she'd only delivered a report to his desk. That, and her one interaction with Dorian. It wasn't really interacting at all.

Carolina watched as the first years were sorted into their new houses, applauding lightly and respectfully for each one. Now that she was Head Girl, her allegiance wasn't only to Slytherin, but to all of Hogwarts, she supposed. Graham sent her a particularly nasty look when he caught her applauding a small, blonde Gryffindor student. She refused to meet his eye, deciding that seeing as this was her final year, she needn't pay mind to the pressures she usually swayed to of her housemates.

Once all of the first years had been seated, Dumbledore rose from his seat.

"Welcome, to first years and returning students alike! I hate to detain you any longer from the delicious feast that awaits you but we have a few changes in staffing. Joining us as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, we welcome Dolores Umbridge—"

"She works at the ministry!" Carolina whispered, surprised to Adrian. "She's senior undersecretary to Fudge!"

"And filling in for Hagrid while he is on leave, we welcome back Professor Grubblyplank! Now, Mr. Filch would like to remind you that—"

"Hem-hem!" Dumbledore paused, apparently caught off guard by the sound, before continuing.

"That the forest is, as it has always been—"

"Hem-hem!" The cough was louder now, and Dumbledore turned to peer over his half moon spectacles at the source of the disturbance.

Professor Umbridge was standing up, hands clasped in front of her expectantly.

"Yes?" Dumbledore said, obviously not used to being interrupted.

"If you would headmaster, I'd like to say a few words," the new Professor simpered.

"By all means," Dumbledore responded, fixing his shocked expression to one of passivity and taking a step back from the podium.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction."

Carolina looked around. Her housemates already looked especially bored.

"The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Was she dim enough to believe a speech about education would capture the students interests just before dinner? Caroline furrowed her eyebrows as she watched the woman pace in front of the crowd. She hadn't been particularly fond of Umbridge at the ministry. She had created a lot of extra work for her boss.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts have brought something new to the weighty task of governing I this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering."

"She sounds like you," Adrian said, whispering to Carolina again.

"No she doesn't!" Carolina shot back, offended.

"You obviously haven't heard yourself talk about being a prefect, then," Adrian responded, winking at her.

"A balance, then," Umbridge continued, perhaps unaware that the majority of the student body at this point was no longer listening to her, opting instead to whisper to their friends or stare into space. "Between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited," she finished, a watery smile appearing on her lips that didn't fully meet her eyes.

There was a smattering of applause after her speech, although most of the students hadn't even noticed that she had finished speaking.

"You have got to be related," Adrian teased again.

"I resent that!" Carolina glared back at him.

"Thank you, Professor, for that particularly illuminating speech," Dumbledore said, the tone of his voice silencing the students who had been talking throughout the woman's long soliloquy.

"Illuminating?" Adrian whispered back to Carolina. "More like bloody boring!"

Carolina nodded, deciding not to respond. Umbridge's speech had been rather dull, and certainly if Carolina was speaking to hundreds of students ages 11 to 18, she would have chosen her phrases differently, but Dumbledore was right… She wasn't sure what precedent the ministry was operating under to send a chief official with absolutely no teaching experience to work at Hogwarts, but things certainly would be changing.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _So, not the most dramatic chapter but y'all... I skipped ahead in my writing schedule and wrote the final chapter and damn... made myself cry. I still have like 18 more chapters to write until I'm completely finished but I'm feeling even more inspired to do so than I was before. As always, many thank you's to those of you reviewing/following/favoriting._

 _A sidenote: I used Umbridge's actual speech from OoTP in this chapter because it is so, SO important and characterizing for her (and it's like one of the best speeches in all of the books) but if you guys take offense to that, I will certainly just go back and write my own version of it (updated with next published chapter, probably)... just let me know in comments or messages. Thanks and I hope to hear from you all!_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

* * *

"Wands away, students! And quills out!" Professor Umbridge exclaimed, a feigned smiled pulling tightly at her wide mouth. Her lips spread into thin lines, showing sharp little teeth. Carolina dutifully, albeit warily, dropped her wand into her book bag.

"Welcome to your N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Although the past six years of your education have been alarmingly uneven—to say the very least—we will endeavor this year to stabilize said education, returning to our fundamentals to best prepare you for your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests and the wonderful careers I'm sure you will all continue on to pursue upon graduation…" she paused, as if expecting Carolina and her classmates to applaud her little speech.

She was met with complete silence, accented by a cough coming from somewhere in the back row.

Umbridge frowned. "Please, retrieve your textbooks… you may read chapters one and two and answer the appropriate study questions in your notebooks at the end of each chapter. You have forty minutes. Begin."

There was a general shuffle as the students began to slowly pull out and inspect their textbooks. Carolina, for her part, hadn't laid a single eye on any of her new textbooks as her summer had been so full of writing and reading reports for Amelia. Normally, she would be at least three to four chapters into each one by the first lessons, but as she pulled her book form her bag, she frowned. "Defensive Magical Theory" by Wilbert Slinkhard? She had read the book in second year in about two days after discovering the section of the library designated for spell creation and theory.

She supposed she didn't need to reread the first two chapters and instead opted for turning straight to the pages with the study questions, which were unremarkably simple. She jotted down a few sentences for each, before closing her book and inspecting her classmates.

There were about fifteen of them total in the class. A few students were whispering to each other under their breath—she assumed about how ridiculous this first assignment was for a N.E.W.T. level class. In Transfiguration, they had just begun learning the theory for non-verbal human transfiguration into inanimate objects. In Charms they had started the Protean Charm, in Potions they were finally brewing veritaserum, and in Defense they were… reading about basic defensive theory? If Adrian had continued with Defense, she'd probably be whispering to him as well.

Instead, she was sitting next to Morgana, who had dutifully almost finished reading chapter one.

She continued observing her classmates. Graham and Miles were sitting together, copying each other's notes. It appeared one had read chapter one and the other chapter two. To her left was Roger Davies who was still reading, his eyelids falling shut every few moments. She turned around in her seat. A couple rows back sat one of the Weasley twins… he was seated next to the Gryffindor chaser… Angelina, was it? So it was probably Fred then, since they had gone to the ball together. She furrowed her brow as she watched him silently levitate his book higher and higher into the air. It was strange to see him without his twin…

"Mr. Weasley! That is a book, not an object for your amusement! I would expect better of a Ministry official's son!" Umbridge chastised, flicking her wand at his book. It fell unceremoniously with a loud thump onto the wooden desk, waking up Roger, whose head had been lolling to one side.

"Ms. Flint," Umbridge said, noticing Carolina had been watching the spectacle. "Is there something you need help with?"

"No, ma'am," Carolina replied, turning to face forwards in her seat once again.

"Then I suggest you open your book and continue reading," Umbridge said, her saccharine smile showing her venomously glinting teeth.

"I've already finished it, Professor," Carolina said, holding up her notes with the correct answers to the study questions.

"How marvelous," Umbridge said, although her expressions showed a distinct lack of enthusiasm at Carolina's work. She stepped forward and read over the answers. "Well, then by all means, continue on to chapter three."

Carolina nodded and opened her book to the end of chapter three and easily answered the study questions. She closed her book again.

"Finished already?" Umbridge cooed, looking rather annoyed this time. "Chapter four then."

Again, Carolina opened her book to the end of the chapter four, copied down the questions and carefully answered them. For good measure, she wrote down the answers to Chapters five, six and seven as well, before raising her hand.

"Yes, Ms. Flint?"

"I've finished through chapter seven," she stated simply.

Umbridge frowned. "Surely you haven't read each chapter, we still have twenty minutes left of class."

"I have, Professor, second year," Carolina said, hoping that the ministry official would understand what she was implying and bring something more worthy of N.E.W.T. level study next class.

"Well, then surely you need a refresher, if it has been that long. I suggest you return to page one, and start rereading. Repetition is the cornerstone of success!"

Carolina's jaw dropped open. "I don't believe I need a refresher, ma'am."

"Students will raise their hands before they speak. As Head Girl, I'd expect you to know that, Ms. Flint," the squat professor ridiculed, again baring her sharp teeth in a grotesque smile.

Carolina raised her hand, fully aware that the entire class had now stopped reading or doodling or doing whatever they had been and were watching her interaction with the professor. Umbridge, for her part, merely smiled again, let out a little cough, and returned to her desk, ignoring Carolina's hand.

Twenty minutes later, Carolina's arm was sore and her brow had set into a complete, ferocious Flint glare, as she stared at Umbridge, who hadn't looked up from her desk since she sat down.

Finally, the bell tolled.

"You may go," Umbridge said, as students began packing their bags, whispering conspiratorially to each other.

Carolina remained seated, her hand raised, daring the Professor to call on her. Finally, when nearly every student had left the classroom, with the exception of a few stragglers in the back, Umbridge address Carolina.

"Did you have something to say, dear?"

Carolina stood up and took a breath. Standing up, she was quite a bit taller than Umbridge and the sudden height reversal boosted her confidence.

"Professor, I mean this with all due respect, but I feel that Slinkhard's book is quite below N.E.W.T. standards—"

"Do you not believe that you will be tested on defensive magical theory, then, Ms. Flint?" Umbridge queried, standing her ground.

"I'm sure we will be, Professor, but I've done a bit of research into the examinations, and we will also be tested on our non-verbal abilities, dueling techniques, resistance to the Imperius curse, Patronus charms, and much of 'Confronting the Faceless,' by—"

"That is quite enough, Ms. Flint!" Umbridge interrupted her. "You know, I had heard many good things about you from Madam Bones, but you are proving to be much better suited for the roll of assistant than Head Girl, it seems. It is as they say, absolute power corrupts, absolutely… I would suggest that you leave the teaching to me, a designated Ministry official who has been approved of by the Minister himself, to instruct upon what he deems as a suitable curriculum for seventh years, and mind your place! I would hate to report back to Amelia that you have… let your powers as Head Girl go to your head!"

Carolina's jaw dropped open for the second time that morning. She had never been spoken to like that by a Professor!

"Now run along," Umbridge said, her saccharine smile once again plastered over her toad like face.

Carolina shut her mouth, grabbed her book bag and stormed out of the classroom, too angry to notice the impressed look of the redhead who had been loitering after class, eavesdropping on their conversation.

This was unheard of! Carolina had assumed that perhaps there would be a few new rules—perhaps students would have a stricter curfew, or perhaps less magic would be permitted out of class, but not letting them prepare for their N.E.W.T.s!? There would be no way Carolina would achieve a place on the Wizengamot if she couldn't pass her Defense N.E.W.T.

Without noticing where her legs were taking her, Carolina was unsurprised when she found herself in the library. This was, after all, the best place to dispense with one's anger, she had found over the years. Some girls liked to rant to their friends, others like to cry or get revenge, Carolina however, preferred reading—she preferred finding enough books, with enough passages and data to justify her anger. She knew that if she were able to research the history of Ministry involvement in the Hogwarts curricula, she would be able to prove to whomever—Umbridge, Dumbledore, Fudge—whomever, that this would not be tolerated. That her future was on the line!

She allowed her legs to carry her over to the familiar shelves, from which she viciously tore the books and brought them back to her study table. First and foremost, the book she knew nearly inside and out, "Hogwarts, a History," then "Educational Reform in Wizarding Britain," "The Purpose of Department," the autobiography of Armando Dippet, "Wizarding Pedagogy," and finally, "Public Tuition, Practical Education."

In a huff, she sat down and dived in.

* * *

" _Dear Mr. Editor,_

 _I regret it deeply that I feel I am forced to write to you, but I would not be able to hold myself in high esteem if I sat back and did nothing. Hogwarts, you see, is in jeopardy of becoming the laughing stock of wizarding schools across the world. Upon entry to this great institution, we students were promised a rigorous academic education that would prepare us to be masters of the magic we possess. I am ashamed to say that our magic is being squandered by a Ministry appointed professor._

 _Professor Umbridge has absolutely no right teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. In the past, while the professors have been a motley bunch to be sure, they have all had exposure to the dark arts, if not experience teaching and lecturing as well. (Gilderoy Lockhart, despite his boggled mind, was indeed a great orator.) The only experience Dolores Umbridge holds is as a mid-level bureaucrat in an institution which has not once in the history of its existence, intended to influence the goings on at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

 _Hogwarts was founded in the year 990, before any wizarding government existed, and has continued on in the thousand years or so since as its own entity, as it rightly should. Not once has the Ministry of Magic attempted to control what is out of its expertise—the magical tutelage of young witches and wizards. The question then, is why is the Ministry only now interested in squandering the magical talents of its young citizens?_

 _To be certain, in the past hundred years or so, with the advent of the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, the ministry has stepped up its involvement in the measurement of the students' wits, but has never once claimed to know better than the school's very own teachers what should be taught. In 1895, the late Headmaster Armando Dippet even wrote in his letters that the autonomy of Hogwarts was "the pillar upon which this great school stood, and without its independence, would fall to banal, bureaucratic blunders." Professor Umbridge's newly minted title as Hogwarts High Inquisitor surely falls under such "bureaucratic blunders" that Headmaster Dippet warned against._

 _As a seventh year N.E.W.T. level Defense student, we were asked to follow Wilbert Slinkhard's "Defensive Magical Theory," as our textbook for the school year. This very book asserts in its own prologue that it is recommended as "a most basic and introductory guide to defensive magic." I can only hope that this was the personal choice of Professor Umbridge, and does not reflect the Ministry as a whole, as its choice is an insult to all students above second year, not to mention the families that put their trust in Hogwarts to give their children the very best education._

 _It is deeply unnerving that our very own Ministry of Magic would have us fail our examinations for no other reason than that of the pure inexperience and negligence of one employee._

 _Sincerely,_

 _A Concerned Student"_

Carolina read over her letter, finally satisfied. A week had passed by in which she had consumed nearly every book on her nightstand, and completely wrecked one of her favorite quills, but it had been worth it. She hopped up from her table at the library, grabbed her book bag and scampered out from the stacks.

The air was still warm, as it was only mid-September now, and she gleefully made her way out the great oaken doors, through the courtyard, along the suspended bridge, and up the spiraling stairs to the top of the owlery.

She called down one of the school's owls, deciding against her own for anonymity, and pulled an envelope out of her bag, stuffing her letter into it carefully. On the front of the envelope, she quickly scrawled "The Editor of the Daily Prophet," before quickly casting a gemini charm on the letter, deciding it was one of her best pieces of writing and that she might want to reread it later, and sealing the envelope with a swish of her wand and attaching it to the leg of the tawny brown owl in front of her.

"Thank you," she whispered to the bird, scratching it lightly behind its wing, before it took flight, soaring up through the rafters and out into the clear blue sky.

Carolina turned away as the owl disappeared from sight, a grin plastered across her face. Despite the absolutely vile second lesson she had experienced with Umbridge who had stood in front of her desk, watching Carolina read the bloody boring book, she finally felt hopeful about the future of defense classes.

Her letter would get published in the Letters to the Editor section of the Prophet, she was sure of it. It was well written, well researched, and right, and when the parents got a whiff of what was going on at Hogwarts, there would be hell to pay for Umbridge.

She was in such a gleeful mood as she skipped back down to the castle that she was hardly bothered upon running into the Weasley Twins just outside the Great Hall tricking more unsuspecting first years into trying their candies.

"Nosebleed nougat, it's our newest product, guaranteed to get you out of any class!" One of the twins said, leaning down in front of a little blonde Hufflepuff whose eyes were wider than saucers.

"All you need to do is swallow this end," the other twin said, plopping half the candy into the young Hufflepuff's mouth, "and wait for the effects to kick in! Then—"

"I don't believe you're supposed to selling anything on school grounds, boys," Carolina sneered.

The Hufflepuff let out a yelp as his nose suddenly started gushing blood down the front of his robes.

"Hm, that must have been one of the more enthusiastic batches," one of the twins said, pointedly ignoring Carolina as her sneer turned into a frown.

"We aren't selling anything," the other twin said, raising his eyebrow and staring confrontationally back at Carolina. It had to be Fred, she decided; she'd never had trouble disciplining George. "We're giving them out for free. Nothing against the rules with that." Now, it was his turn to smirk.

"Well—that's besides the point! You better fix his nose!" Carolina said, feeling slightly out of her element, unable to come up with a snappier retort.

"I think that is the point," Fred responded, meeting her gaze defiantly as his brother gave the student the other end of the candy and his nosebleed stopped as suddenly as it had started, although the blood stains down his uniform remained.

"You can't dock points for sharing sweets with a pal, can you _Madam Prefect?_ We weren't breaking any rules." The Hufflepuff took this moment of distraction to stand up and scamper away from the twins.

"Oh, he looked like a real pal. How did you three meet?" Carolina spat back, searching her head for some way to logically fault them.

"We offered him sweets," Fred sneered back, obviously enjoying his upper hand in their conversation.

Suddenly an idea came to Carolina. She paused and relaxed her face, pinching her eyebrows together to look slightly nervous. "Do those—do those candies actually give them a bloody nose?" She asked, hoping he couldn't resist answering her question.

"Of course they do; you saw it with your very own eyes!"

She smirked, reveling in her intelligence. "So you're saying you knowingly gave a first year a bloody nose? I can, in fact, dock points for that. Ten points from Gryffindor, each!" she said.

The twins' faces changed from sneering superiority to utter shock, then quickly again to ardent hatred.

"Nice chatting with you both," Carolina said, turning on her heel and allowing her good mood to carry her back to the Slytherin Common Room.

* * *

" _Dear Concerned Student,_

 _Unfortunately we cannot publish your alarmist letter to the editor. It is the responsibility of this periodical to report the most paramount news, not schoolyard fancies. Please refrain from contacting us about fake news in the future._

 _Best,_

 _Wycliffe Twycott_

 _Editorial Department, the Daily Prophet"_

Carolina stared down at the letter that had landed on her plate. The high that she had been riding for the past four days plummeted as she read the brief sentences. She scowled. She had poured so much effort into her letter and they had the gall to dismiss it as "schoolyard fancies?" She felt so angry she could burst, and violently stood up from the Slytherin table.

"Caro?" Adrian questioned, looking up curiously at his friend who looked as if she were out for blood.

"Not. Now," Carolina snarled, swinging her leg over the bench and storming away from the Great Hall. Well, if the Daily Prophet was unwilling to publish her letter, she'd just have to find a way to get it read on her own. She marched down the first floor hallways until she came to the staircase that led down to the dungeons. She made it down there in no time, and upon finding an empty classroom, pulled out her duplicate letter from her bag—she'd been carrying it around with her—and started making copies.

If the parents of her classmates were unaware of the educational betrayal the ministry was hosting upon the students, then the students themselves needed to be reminded that this was unfair treatment—and that they should complain to their parents.

She grimaced as she gave herself a paper cut in her haste to make as many copies as possible and shoved her thumb into her mouth, sucking in the metallic taste of her blood. There wouldn't be a student in the school who wasn't aware of Umbridge's faults when she was through.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

* * *

"Weasley, you'll be switching with Goldstein to accommodate the Gryffindor's practice schedule… so your new patrol night will be…." Carolina moved her finger quickly down the table she had drawn up of the prefect schedule. "Tuesdays. First and second floors. Goldstein, you will be on Thursdays, seventh and sixth floors, and… I think that's it for schedule changes… Unless you have anything to add, Roger?" Carolina shot an annoyed look at the Head Boy.

"Er, no, not as such," Roger replied, a rather stupid look upon his face.

Not as such? What the bloody hell did that mean? Carolina furrowed her brow. Why did Dumbledore stick her with such a nitwit?

"Before you all leave," she continued addressing the 16 prefects seated in front of her, "Professor Umbridge has asked me to remind you that according to educational decree number 23, students are no longer allowed to post their own notices on the common room notice boards, or in any other public setting, and that all notices must get approved by the…" Carolina paused. She really didn't like referring to Umbridge this way at all. "The High Inquisitor," she finished, sighing. "If someone in your house would like to post a notice, please collect it from them and deliver it to Professor Umbridge for her approval, or if you'd rather…" She didn't know why she was offering this; she preferred to keep her interactions with the vile professor to a minimum. "You may hand it off to Roger or me and we can deliver it for you."

The prefects nodded, some bored, others thankfully. "Alright, you may go; sorry this meeting took a bit longer than usual. I know you all have studying to do," Carolina said, gesturing for them to leave. There was a brief clattering of stools scraping against the stone floor, and feet shuffling, before Carolina was left completely alone to review her notes from the meeting. Well, almost completely alone.

"Carolina?" A soft voice questioned from a few paces away, as if uncertain whether the seventh year Slytherin would suddenly transfigure herself into a banshee or a dementor.

"Yes?" Carolina looked up, surprised to find the two fifth year Gryffindor prefects hanging back. The Weasley twins' little brother—Ron was his name—was standing further away, leaning cautiously against a desk, a rather concerned look on his face, as if he believed his fellow prefect had lost her marbles.

Hermione Granger, for her part, was looking directly at Carolina, and slowly stepping forward as one would do in order not to scare away a small and frightened kitten.

"Decree number 23, that's because of the anonymous letter—the 'Concerned Student' letter, isn't it? Because it was posted all over the notice boards?" She queried.

Carolina raised her eyebrows, curious as to where this conversation could be going. Over the past few weeks, she had found Hermione to be the brightest and most capable of the new prefects. Normally, she wouldn't be open to staying late to chat with a Gryffindor, but she decided she would make an exception for the bushy haired girl. She reminded her a little bit of herself—perhaps a bit more naive. "One can only guess as to the reasons for the numerous educational decrees being issued," Carolina sighed, finally putting away her prefect schedule and quill.

"I'm only asking because—well, I actually heard that you wrote it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Carolina said primly, standing up. The letter was anonymous for a reason. She couldn't have Umbridge finding out who authored the document.

"It's just that, the writer said they were a seventh year in Defense, and there are only 15 students in the N.E.W.T. Level class and I know it wasn't any of the Gryffindors, and I don't think it was any of your housemates, and well, I have it on pretty good authority that it _sounded_ like your writing." Hermione's voice grew stronger as she spoke.

"And?" Carolina snarled, making Ron jump slightly in the background. Who had talked to the fifth year about her writing?

"And I agree with you!" Hermione said quickly. "We agree with you!" She gestured to Ron who now looked rather sick as he met Carolina's icy stare.

"I think it's completely unfair that Umbridge isn't teaching us proper defense! It's rubbish and none of us will pass our O.W.L.s and that would be…" she stopped, seemingly too preoccupied at what might happen if she didn't pass the O.W.L. to finish her sentence.

"Anyways, I—I think you might be interested in," suddenly, Hermione seemed nervous again. "In… you see, we have a study group of sorts. To practice defense, since we _obviously_ aren't learning anything in her class." Upon bashing Umbridge, Hermione's confidence returned. "And there are a few other seventh years in attendance, so you could practice at your level, if you wanted, and I just thought you might want to… stop by?"

Carolina considered the girl thoughtfully. A study group wasn't a bad idea. In fact, she wished she had thought of it herself first. Perhaps had there been anyone in her Defense class that she wanted to spend any time outside of class with, she would have pursued the idea herself.

"What days do you meet?" She asked.

"Well, we haven't really had a meeting yet, we're looking for a location, you see…"

Carolina nodded, urging Hermione to continue.

"And, well, before you show up, you have to sign your name to a contract that requires secrecy."

Carolina raised her eyebrows. "Bit of a precaution for a study group," she said wearily.

"Well, the ministry obviously doesn't want us to be learning Defense Against the Dark Arts so actually, I find the precaution rather necessary, especially after decree number 24," Hermione argued.

"Hm," Carolina said, mulling over the pros and cons in her mind. On one hand, it was never a good idea to sign your name on something that would magically bind you to anything and Hermione seemed a bit too nervous to be entirely trustworthy right now. On the other hand, the idea of bettering her practical knowledge of defense was rather appealing, just so that she could spite Umbridge and score an 'O' on her N.E.W.T. Besides, as a seventh year, she could probably teach a few things to the younger students who were being deprived their guaranteed education as well, and as Head Girl, her responsibility was to the school and to its students…

"Okay," she said finally, nodding.

"Great!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling out a piece of parchment from her bag. "You can sign right now," she said, handing the paper to Carolina. "We haven't found a location yet, but I will tell you as soon as we do!"

Carolina read over the list of names. She frowned. She was the only Slytherin. In fact, the only other seventh years were the bloody Weasley Twins and their friends. Sighing, she added her name to the bottom of the list. If anything, if she didn't like it, she didn't have to go back.

"Alright, I'll let you know when our first meeting is. C'mon, Ron!" Hermione said, grabbing the parchment and shoving it back into her bag, before beckoning Ron to follow her out of the classroom, and waving to Carolina.

Carolina in turn picked up her book bag, her mind whirring. Not once in all of her seven years at Hogwarts had she intentionally broken a single rule… and now, she was directly thwarting educational decree number 24 upon agreeing to join their study group. Of course, she was of the opinion that number 24, which banned all student organizations without direct approval of the High Inquisitor, was absolutely ludicrous.

She had been forced to grovel in front of Umbridge just yesterday so that she could call to session prefect meetings and it had been a humiliating experience, to say the least.

She walked through the drafty corridors down to the dungeons. She felt giddy, nervous almost, at the prospect of partaking in an illicit activity, all to spite that horrible woman! She quickened her steps.

She strutted through the doorway to the Slytherin Common Room and looked around only to find her friends to be occupied elsewhere. It was rather late, she supposed. She sat down at one of the study desks by the row of windows that looked out into the deep murky lake. A minnow swam by as Carolina pulled out her Transfiguration essay.

She was nearly done, with only the final two paragraphs to go, but the words evaded her. In fact, her mind could only focus on one topic… educational decree number 24.

Carolina pulled out a blank piece of parchment, feeling sudden inspiration coming on:

" _Dear Mr. Editor,_

 _Upon the declaration of the newest educational decree, I find myself again with the heavy responsibility of notifying you and your readership of the simultaneously ridiculous and worrying news at Hogwarts._

 _According to the decree, all student groups or meetings have been disbanded without direct approval from the High Inquisitor, including any and all study groups, Gobstones club, charms club, all of the house quidditch teams, dueling club, choir, the arithmancy team, among others, not to mention shirking the ability of the Head Boy and Girl to arrange prefect meetings._

 _Does this not reek of paranoid bureaucratic absurdity? Of all the broken things, the Ministry endeavors to spend its energy on a perfectly organized schedule of school clubs. At the start of the semester, the prefects and quidditch captains and club leaders all schedule their respective meeting times and places. This schedule has been thoroughly uprooted and disregarded by the most recent educational decree. To be frank, Professor Umbridge has faultily scheduled multiple quidditch practices to happen at the same time and it is alarming to this student that Sirius Black is still at large, that dementors have been found outside of their posts, that ministry employees have gone missing, and yet our only government preoccupies itself on disorganizing Hogwarts' clubs and groups."_

Carolina put down her quill. It was a good start. She could finish it tomorrow during her free period. The rude dismissal by Wycliffe Twycott of her first letter had only forced determination upon her, if not to be published then to cause him as much grief as she could. Her writing deserved to be included in the opinion section just as much as anybody's!

* * *

The next day found Carolina once again walking in the brisk October air back from the owlery, a smug look on her face. She had indeed finished her letter during her free period and Professor Vector had released them earlier than normal, so she had about ten minutes to send her letter before dinner started.

She was walking along the suspended bridge, marveling at the crescent moon as it appeared over the lake, and just about to reach the castle, when she heard her name being called from ahead.

At the far end of the bridge, nearly twenty paces in front of her, Hermione Granger was crouching behind a large boulder. Carolina picked up her pace, although slightly bewildered. What was she doing behind a rock?

As Carolina stepped in front of her, Hermione beckoned for her to crouch down as well.

"Quickly!" Hermione said, her eyes darting around.

"I hardly think anyone would see us, they're all at dinner," Carolina whispered back.

"Umbridge's office looks out this way," Hermione replied.

Carolina merely nodded. Perhaps then, the precautionary measure was necessary.

"Listen, we've found a location. It's on the seventh floor corridor—do you know the painting of Barnabus the Barmy?"

Carolina nodded again.

"Well, there is blank bit of wall across from it and—"

"We won't be practicing in the corridor!" Carolina interrupted.

"No, no, what you have to do is right across from the painting, pace in front of the wall three times and think about finding the practice room."

Carolina furrowed her brow. "Think about it?"

"Yes, and a door should appear. We're meeting at 8 o'clock."

"Hm, alright," Carolina said, standing up. "I think we should go back separately." She looked up at the glinting windows of the castle as if she would be able to see Umbridge observing them from one.

"That's a good idea, I'll wait, you go first," Hermione replied.

"Thanks," Carolina said, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body. The sun was now completely set and the night was creeping in. "See you later, I guess."

Carolina sidled into the Great Hall not five minutes later and took a seat next to Adrian.

"Where have you been?" He asked between mouthfuls of shepherd's pie.

"Studying," Carolina replied simply, hoping that that was a believable enough answer.

"Really? I checked for you in the library after you dashed out of class."

"Oh? I wasn't in the library—had a book in my room I wanted to get," she said, helping herself to her own portion of the bounty in front of her.

"I checked the dorms as well," Adrian said, eying her.

"Well we must have just missed each other!" Carolina said, smiling at him innocently.

She didn't know why she felt the need to lie to Adrian about the letters to the editor that she had been sending out, but it was probably best not to reveal that information surrounded by listening ears.

"Oh," Adrian replied dully.

"Mm! The partridge is particularly delicious tonight!" Carolina said, swallowing a bit more than she could chew, and ending her sentence with a light cough. She realized, that if she wanted to finish her Transfiguration essay, she'd have to do so in just two hour's time—and even less if she partook in a leisurely dinner.

Delia gave her a disgruntled look. "Carolina! You're eating like one of the boys!"

"Slow down, you'll choke!" Added Abigail.

Carolina only shrugged, as she forked the last string bean into her mouth.

"You don't want dessert?" Adrian questioned as his friend stood up from the Slytherin table.

"No I'm, er," Carolina paused trying to think of an excuse, "watching my figure…" she cringed.

"What?" Adrian said, shocked.

"Oh, good for you!" Abigail cheered at the same time. "We'll join you!" She stood up, followed by Delia.

"See you later, Graham," Delia said, winking at Montague.

Carolina sighed… that wasn't exactly what she had wanted but, at least she could go back to the common room and finish her essay now.

Abigail and Delia were quite talkative on the walk back, and Carolina soon became worried that she wouldn't get any work done at all and that skipping dessert had all been for nothing. When they arrived in the common room however, her roommates excused themselves to their bedroom to attempt new beauty spells and Carolina gratefully took her seat at her favorite study table and once again pulled out her Transfiguration essay. It really had been irresponsible to put it off another night, but as she was learning this year, school work wasn't always the absolute most important thing. Voicing her opinion, she felt, was just as worthy a task.

An hour and a half later, Carolina proudly stared down at her essay. It was immaculate, as always, and she wouldn't be surprised if it received top marks from McGonagall.

"You look at your homework like my grandmother looks at my baby brother. It's rather sickening," Adrian said, sitting next to her.

"How charming!" Carolina laughed, turning to him.

"Are you really watching your figure?" He questioned, obviously not fully fooled by her lie.

Carolina sighed. She couldn't get anything past him… he was her dearest friend, after all.

"No, I just wanted to finish this essay early and I didn't want the boys to take the mickey out of me."

"They wouldn't do that!" He said defensively.

Carolina raised her eyebrows. "Are we talking about the same boys?"

Adrian laughed. "I guess they would…"

"Oh!" Carolina exclaimed. "It's nearly eight! I have rounds!"

"But you had rounds last night!" Adrian whined.

"Life as Head Girl, I suppose," Carolina replied, packing up her belongings. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"But I wanted to hang out!" Adrian whined again. "I waited until you had finished your essay to come over!"

Carolina smiled. "We can hang tomorrow. I promise!" She said, before racing upstairs to drop off her books. She headed downstairs with just her wand, and waved to Adrian (who was pouting rather exaggeratedly) as she ran out of the portrait hole.

The trip from the dungeons to the seventh floor was a long one and Carolina found herself out of breath by the time she arrived. Not only that, she was five minutes late, having gotten caught up avoiding other prefects. It wasn't like it was after curfew, she could still technically be out of bed, and even if it was after curfew, she was Head Girl and could do as she pleased, but it was better if fewer people knew where she was going.

She approached the piece of wall across from Barnabus the Barmy. Oh, this was going to be one of the more ridiculous things she had ever done, pacing in front of a blank wall.

She sighed. If anyone else had given her the instruction on how to find the meeting place, she wouldn't have believed them, but Hermione Granger was hardly someone who took joy in practical jokes.

Carolina closed her eyes and started pacing, while thinking about the meeting place. When she opened them, she was surprised to find a giant door directly in front of her. It was covered in intricate metal carvings.

Hesitantly, she reached out her hand, clutched the door knob and pushed it open.

She was met with the general cacophony of students talking to one another, however upon seeing her, silence fell as abruptly as an anchor plunging into an icy sea. All eyes turned to her.

"Hi Carolina, we just finished voting on a name for our, er, group," Hermione said nervously, stepping forward. "Why don't you close the door?"

Carolina did as was suggested and shut the door behind her, prompting a few students to break from their stupor.

"We're going to be called Dumbledore's Army," Hermione continued before she was interrupted.

"You invited the Head Girl?" A boy she recognized as the fifth year Hufflepuff prefect called out.

"You invited a Slytherin?" One of the Gryffindor chasers exclaimed as well.

"Yes, we did," Hermione said matter-of-factly, gesturing to her and Ron.

"Yeah, well, it was Hermione's idea," Ron said, turning as red as his hair as many of the glaring eyes turned towards him.

"How do we know we can trust her?"

"A bloody Slytherin? Are you mental?"

"She's probably just going to run off to Umbridge after this!"

"She won't," Hermione replied, interrupting the barrage of comments. "She dislikes Umbridge just as much as we do."

"How do you know?" A rather pompous looking Ravenclaw student said.

"Because she's a ' _Concerned Student,'_ " said Fred Weasley calmly, the rest of the room growing quiet at his accusation.

"You mean, she wrote the letter?" another student called out, but Carolina ignored him.

Carolina's eyes darted to the tall redhead. "How—how…" she began, but he interrupted her.

"I'm familiar with your writing," he said smugly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

"Well, that may be, but she's still a Slytherin," said the pompous looking boy. "How can we trust her?"

"And what does my house have to with any of it?" Carolina responded angrily, sending the boy a malicious glare. "I'm just as capable as any of you and I have just as much reason to despise Umbridge, if not more so!"

Hermione smiled. "It's settled then. Er—Harry? Do you want to take over?"

Carolina frowned as the motley group formed a semi circle around the messy-haired, bespectacled fifth year. Was he to be their leader? How could she have not suspected as such… He was Hermione's best friend, after all.

The lesson ended up being rather basic… as Harry told them that the most useful spell was expelliarmus. Carolina, for her part, had mastered the spell their third year, but it was certainly a good idea to practice it, seeing as she wouldn't get any practical lessons in her Defense classes before the N.E.W.T.

It was rather awkward at the beginning however, as no one wanted to be her partner and she ended up dueling with a fifth year Gryffindor named Neville, whose inexperience allowed Carolina not to even bother using a shield charm, as his spellwork more often than not missed her entirely. He on the other hand, had developed a rather bad bruise on his back from her non-verbal spells, which had literally swept him off his feet.

"Right, that was good work today!" Harry Potter called out. People lowered their wands and stepped closer together to hear the speaker. "I think we should leave in pairs so that we don't get caught."

"Wait, before you all go!" Hermione pulled a bag from her book bag. She reached her hand in and pulled out a galleon. "I've made these—"

"You're making galleons?" Ron asked, bemused.

"No—they're not real coins—but they'll tell you when our next meeting is…" she explained how the galleons worked, showing the crowd as the little numbers rearranged themselves on the face of the coin.

"That's brilliant, Hermione," Harry said. Carolina had to agree. It was a very neat bit of spellwork. For a moment, she felt rather jealous that she hadn't come up with something like that but then, she supposed, it wasn't her responsibility to do so.

"Alright, Dennis, Colin, why don't you leave first?" Harry said, as two younger students carefully exited the room.

As the students trickled out, Carolina looked around the room, her eyes falling on a particular redhead. He was standing towards the back with his twin and his fellow seventh years.

She gulped. She'd never been the bravest, or the most willing to be in someone's debt, but she forced her feet to move forward.

"Er, Fred, can I have a word?"

The twins paused their conversation. George raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Privately?" Carolina added as he made no movement.

"Sure," Fred said after a moment's hesitation.

Carolina lead him over to an unoccupied area of the room.

She took a big breath in, and shifted her gaze up from his old shoes to his face.

"Thank you for—well, you didn't have to stand up for me."

Immediately, the familiar smirk was back on his face.

"Sure," he said simply again, before making to leave.

"I thought!" She said, forcing him to pause and face her again. "I thought you hated me…" she finished quietly.

Fred stared at her for a moment, the smirk on his face now absent.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Carolina cut him off.

"I'm not a death eater, contrary to what you claimed on the Hogwarts Express!" She interrupted him.

"I know…" he said amusedly.

"And neither is my father!"

"Carolina, are you sure about that?" Fred said, all amusement once again gone from his face.

"I…" Carolina trailed off. In truth, she wasn't certain about her father's involvement with You-Know-Who. Well, she was fairly certain that he wasn't a death eater, and that his involvement in the chaos at the World Cup had been a one-off to impress the Malfoys. To her knowledge, the two families hadn't had very much contact since but she _had_ been away for the entire year and had been extremely busy over the summer…

"Anyways," Fred said, interrupting her thoughts. "We've got to take allies where we can find them… even if they are rule-following, detention-happy, Slytherin Head Girls."

"Oh." She wasn't sure how to feel about his explanation.

"See you later, Carolina," Fred said with a wink, walking back to his brother who was impatiently waiting to exit the room.

Carolina ended up walking back to the Slytherin Common Room alone as no one else was going to the dungeons. The empty corridors were dark and drafty, lit only by flickering candle light, but the walk went quickly as Carolina mulled over Fred's words in her head. Was he the one that had told Hermione that she had written the letter? And if he did, why did he care?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hey everyone! Thoughts on Carolina in the D.A.? Thoughts on Fred being nice to Carolina? Thoughts in general? I honestly love writing the chapters that take place in the fifth book... hope you can all tell! Thanks again to my reviewers :-)_


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-five**

* * *

"Carolina!" Adrian called across the great hall, waving jubilantly. The front of his trousers were caked in mud, as were those of this companions—the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Adrian had been in a much better mood this year, as he was back on the team in his original position of chaser. As soon as Carolina had found out that Miles had been made captain, she had not doubted for one minute that Adrian would be back in his rightful position, despite her best friend's moaning and groaning about how he hadn't practiced enough over the summer.

As the boys walked towards her, they were a formidable crew. Graham and Cassius had stayed on the team as the other two chasers, Miles was of course keeper, Draco the seeker, and his friends, Crabbe and Goyle had replaced Derrick and Bole as beaters.

From what Adrian had told her, Crabbe and Goyle were abysmally worse fliers, but made up for their waning broom skills with their brawny arms and ability to take a hit.

"Hey, Ades," Carolina said as the entire quidditch team engulfed where she was sitting at the Slytherin table, about to tuck into the delicious Halloween feast.

"Gryffindor won't know what hit them," Miles said proudly, helping himself to a rack of lamb.

"Total annihilation," Cassius grunted, pouring peas upon his plate.

Carolina sniffed. The boys smelled rather rotten. Like mud and sweat and dirty socks.

"Just wait, Weasley's going to cry," Draco said, smiling viciously as Crabbe and Goyle let out two rumbling chuckles.

Carolina raised her eyebrows, assuming that the blonde boy was talking about the Weasley in his year, instead of specifying one of the three Weasleys on the Gryffindor team.

"Quidditch and Hogsmeade in the same weekend," Adrian sighed dreamily, chewing his potatoes rather sloppily.

At this comment, Graham elbowed Goyle rather pointedly and the younger student let out a small grunt.

"Speaking of Hogsmeade," he said in his slow voice. "Do you—er, Carolina—want to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Carolina nearly spat out her pumpkin juice. She hadn't seen that one coming.

She slowly put down her goblet and lifted her eyes from her plate. Graham had a rather sinister smirk on his face, and Miles was nearly red from holding in his laughter.

She turned her gaze to the rotund fifth year.

Well, there was no beating around the bush, she supposed. "Sorry, I'm spending the day with Adrian," she said plainly, before returning to her meal.

Both Miles and Cassius burst out laughing, and Graham fixed his face into a psuedo-sympathetic expression. "Better luck next time, mate," he said, patting Goyle on the back.

Carolina had the distinct feeling that the boys had planned this—whether as a prank on her or Goyle, she wasn't sure, but she suddenly felt her appetite disappear.

She shot a sharp and inquisitive look at Adrian who was now laughing along with Miles, before pushing her plate away, grabbing her bag and strutting out of the Great Hall.

She should have expected this. Adrian had always been like this when he had been on the quidditch team before—a great friend individually, but a complete pushover around his teammates. She sighed as she decided she might as well spend her newfound free time in the library researching the ministry's previous involvement at Hogwarts before calling it an early night.

The next day, Carolina woke up early and quickly, leaving her dorm room before Abigail and Delia would undoubtedly begin primping for their impending dates with Graham and Cassius.

While she didn't particularly want to spend any more time than she had to with Miles, she did want to see Adrian who had been particularly absent since Quidditch training had started back up, so after lunch, she found herself walking with the two of them through the bustling and blisteringly cold streets of Hogsmeade.

"Her eyebrows!" Laughed Miles, clutching his sides in laughter as they entered the three broomsticks. "They were like-like…"

"Two nifflers," Adrian supplied, laughing along.

"Right! Two nifflers on her ugly face!" Miles said, referring to his hex of the Gryffindor chaser Alicia Spinnet two days prior that had landed her in the hospital wing.

"And the best part—" Miles continued to laugh, "Was that Snape— he practically witnessed it, and he didn't even believe her!"

Carolina didn't approve of his hexing students but, seeing as she hadn't been the one to catch him, felt she ultimately couldn't punish him either.

"Ooh! There's another one!" Adrian said, pointing to a smaller Gryffindor chaser who was standing at the bar, waiting for her drinks. Carolina recognized her as Katie Bell from the D.A., and rolled her eyes at the boys' antics.

"Anteoculatia!" Miles yelled, apparently feeling rather trigger happy despite being the presence of the Head Girl. He swiped his wand at the girl, just as she turned away from the bar, her hands full of butterbeers. The spell missed, instead hitting a flagon of firewhiskey on the shelf, that promptly grew two humongous sets of antlers that ricocheted into the surrounding bottles as they all fell off the shelf in a resounding clash.

"You dolt!" Carolina said, smacking Miles upside the head and causing Adrian to double over in laughter. "You think Madam Rosmerta is going to serve us now?"

The trio looked over to the barmaid who was fuming, her face a bright red as she quickly waved her wand around to repair and clean up the mess that the antlered whiskey had made.

"Better go somewhere else," Adrian said, thoughtfully, as her glare turned towards them.

They quickly shuffled away from the bar and were just about to leave, when a voice called over Adrian and Miles to a booth on the far side of the room.

"Bletchley! Pucey!"

All three heads whipped around, expecting an angry professor to deliver a detention, but instead found the blonde Slytherin seeker, beckoning them over.

"Wotcher, Draco," Adrian said as the three sidled up.

Draco was sitting at the booth with a girl in his year who sported a rather upturned nose and square bangs—Carolina recognized her as his fellow prefect, Pansy Parkinson. Perhaps on a date, Carolina thought to herself.

Between them however, were a few pieces of parchment with lines sprawling across them, some scratched out, others circled and underlined.

"What rhymes with win?" Draco asked as Pansy giggled a rather disturbing sound.

"Fin?" Adrian supplied.

"Kin?" Miles added.

"Sin?"

"Tin?"

"Win?"

"You dolt, we're rhyming with win," Miles scolded Adrian.

"Bin?" Carolina suggested.

"Born in a bin!" Draco suddenly exclaimed. "Bloody hell, we have to use that. Write that down, Pansy," he instructed the girl, as she frantically scribbled another line.

"What's this for?" Carolina queried, eying the paper.

"We're writing a song!" Pansy replied, another shrill giggle erupting from her throat.

A song? That seemed rather unlikely, Carolina thought as she considered the duo. Draco didn't seem the type to have any musical talent whatsoever and if he thought his girlfriend's voice was good enough for singing, well, he was surely misguided.

"Right…" Carolina said, suspiciously.

"We'd better get out of here," Adrian said, as the three turned their heads to see Madam Rosmerta storming towards them.

They quickly hurried out of the bar and back into the cold cobblestone streets.

"We can't go anywhere with you," Carolina shot at Miles who merely shrugged a lackadaisical shrug.

"The Hog's Head?" Adrian offered.

"Only if you want to catch a venereal disease," Carolina quipped back.

"Madam Puddifoot's?" Adrian suggested.

"Mate, are you barmy?" Miles replied, looking offended that the place was even optioned up.

"Well, do you have any suggestions?" Carolina said sharply. It was his fault after all that they had been kicked out of the pub.

"Er… well, no," he said with the decency to look slightly ashamed.

Carolina rolled her eyes. "We could go to the Magic Neep and buy our own drinks and take them somewhere… though it is a bit cold," she added as an afterthought as a gust of wind sent chills up her back and forced her to subconsciously pull her cloak tighter around her.

"Carolina, you're a genius," Adrian said, always easily pleased, swinging his left arm over her shoulders and his right over Miles and tugging them up the street to the Grocer's.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that…" Miles said, although the usual malintent was not present in his voice.

"Because you're so smart, Mr. I-Just-Hexed-a-Bottle-of-Firewhiskey?" Carolina scoffed, sending Adrian into another fit of laughter so that his his shoulders shook, causing Carolina and Miles to careen into the boy in the middle and forcing them all to laugh as they stumbled up the streets.

By the time they had made it to the Grocer's Carolina felt so giddy from laughing that she paid no attention as they nearly bulldozed into three other figures exiting Zonko's, and didn't even notice the sparks that inadvertently flew out of one of the boys' wands as he watched the Slytherin Head Girl with her arm around her best friend.

"Oi! Fred, you just burnt me!" Lee said, turning around and rubbing his hand where the sparks from his friend's wand had seared a hole in his glove.

"Sorry, mate," Fred said sheepishly, averting his eyes from Carolina's retreating back and pocketing his wand. "Slip of the hand, I guess."

* * *

The wind was blowing so hard that you could hear it echo through the Quidditch stands in which Carolina found herself sitting the next day. To her right were Abigail and Delia who had charmed their cloaks to shimmer green in the daylight and had even gone so far as to paint (occasionally hissing) serpents on their cheeks, and to her left were Morgana Bulstrode and her sister, Millicent, quietly conversing about what Carolina could only assume to be their cat, Mr. Tibbidy.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch called and Carolina watched with bated breath as Miles approached Angelina Johnson with a face full of malice and a hand intent on breaking the tiny bones in hers. It was tense, to say the least.

They shook hands as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the two teams took to the sky in a burst of red and green.

It wasn't long until Carolina could see that this was going to be a very rough game. Slytherin seemed to be taking no hostages and the new beaters—Crabbe and Goyle—despite being dumb as boards, had surprisingly decent aim and unsurprisingly had the muscle to knock a few Gryffindors nearly off their brooms.

"Delia!" Carolina heard a voice squeal over the general din. "Here! Pass these along!" Pansy Parkinson was passing out sheets of paper and she handed a few to Delia who kept one and passed them down the line.

Carolina took one as Abigail handed them to her and studied it.

She peered over to Abigail's whose was identical… they appeared to be lyrics to some song. It seemed that Draco and Pansy actually had been writing a song and as Carolina read through the lyrics, the intention became all too clear.

To the side of her, she could hear Abigail and Delia laugh in delight at the lyrics and even Morgana and Millicent were guffawing on her left.

Just then, a roar overcame the Slytherin stands and Carolina looked up from the sheet of paper.

It seemed that Adrian had scored Slytherin's first goal on Gryffindor's new seeker—Ron Weasley. Carolina jumped up and cheered for her friend excitedly, glad that he looked so happy to be back playing quidditch but paused briefly as she heard Pansy start to conduct the Slytherin students in song.

"Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring…!" The crowd roared. "That's why Slytherins all sing, Weasley is our king!"

Abigail and Delia were nearly dancing in their seats, mirth present in their cheeks as they enjoyed the song.

"Weasley was born in a bin, he always lets the quaffle in, Weasley will make sure we win, Weasley is our king!"

Carolina's mouth dropped open in shock. To think that she had contributed to such a line! A sudden jolt of confusion overtook her. This was obviously a malicious and targeted form of bullying, and as Head Girl, she couldn't stand for it. On the other hand, it was only quidditch… and Ron was certainly no Oliver Wood and, well it was quite catchy, and in the end, what was there to be done? She could not single-handedly stop her fellow students from singing. In such a crowd, she had no authority over them and she certainly did not want to risk the meager respect she had already as Head Girl by taking points away from any Slytherin singing.

As Graham scored another goal, Carolina found herself humming along with the tune as she cheered for Slytherin, resigning herself to the fact that it was all in good fun anyways.

The game passed in a blur, with Slytherin scoring two more goals and then Gryffindor getting one. The wind was rough and students were having a hard time staying on their broom.

Suddenly, the two seekers were in a race to catch the snitch—Carolina hadn't even noticed who had seen it first, as they both zoomed towards the ground—and just like that, the game was over. Harry Potter gripped the small golden ball in his hand. Gryffindor had won.

The Gryffindor stands erupted into shouts and yells of pride as the Slytherins all began to sulk in their seats, muttering to their friends about the unfairness of the match.

Carolina stood up, stretching. At least Slytherin had lost rather quickly and she hadn't been forced to spend over an hour in the blisteringly cold air. Just then, a commotion caught her eye as it unfolded down below on the grassy pitch.

It seemed that one of the Weasley twins was charging at Draco with Harry Potter in tow while the three Gryffindor chasers held back the other twin.

Carolina watched in horror as one of the twins and Harry began to pummel Draco, before Crabbe and Goyle rushed in to add their muscle to the brawl.

Just as soon as it started, Madam Hooch broke it up with her wand and her whistle, and although Carolina couldn't hear what was going on, from Draco's bloody nose and the two Gryffindor's sunken shoulders as they marched out of the pitch, Carolina could tell that they were in for some discipline.

Serves them right, she sighed… Although, she was sure that Draco wasn't entirely innocent, knowing that he had written the lyrics to _Weasley is our King_ , and that he had probably said something horrible to instigate the incident, but really, did they have to descend to muggle combat? Boys were such idiots...

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hey everyone! As always, thanks for the reviews! Also, WOW! This story is officially half done! 25 more chapters for you all to read and about 11 more for me to write. And the next few chapters have some ~very~ exciting events, so stay tuned! I'm honestly amazed that this story has garnered almost 100 reviews. I really love hearing from you all! :-)_


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-six**

* * *

"Er, Carolina?" Carolina looked up to see who had spoken her name, annoyed. Couldn't they see she was studying?

It was Ron Weasley; two nights after the Slytherin Gryffindor match and he looked positively broken.

"Yes?" She said, softening up a bit at his sad expression. He had performed rather miserably amidst being the subject of a particularly awful song, after all.

"Angelina wanted me to give this to you for Umbridge's approval. It's for the new beaters and seeker try-outs."

Carolina took the paper from the boy's outstretched hand, glancing briefly at it. It was so ridiculous that anything posted on the student bulletin boards needed to be approved by their bloody defense against the dark arts teacher, and Carolina found herself unintentionally glaring at the piece of parchment.

"Sure," she said to Ron, placing the notice in her bag, and making a mental note to stop by Umbridge's office before her rounds that evening.

"Thanks," Ron said, before waddling sadly away and back out of the library.

Carolina looked down at her watch before closing her Potions textbook. It was nearly time for her rounds, anyway, and she had already finished the required homework.

She stowed her books and parchment away in her bag, pushed her chair in and left the near empty library.

Her footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors, and her only company along her path to Umbridge's office was a brief encounter with the Fat Friar.

The most recent educational decree that had been announced in yesterday's Daily Prophet was absolutely abhorrent, and as Carolina walked, she couldn't help but fume over the exponential limits of control the Ministry was inflicting upon her education.

Students not being able to post on their own common room bulletin boards was bad enough, but now any and all punishments were to be designed and approved by Umbridge? What was the point of having prefects and Head Girls then, if at the end of the day, one teacher could undo or add on to a punishment?

Carolina had started a draft of her next letter to the editor earlier that morning, but had written herself into such an fury that she had forced herself to stop before ultimately ruining a well thought out and organized letter.

She stopped at the door to Umbridge's office and took a breath in, before rapping her knuckles on the wooden door three times. This was not something Carolina wanted particularly to be doing.

"Yes?" The saccharine voice called from within.

Carolina turned the doorknob and gently pushed the door open.

"Ah, Ms. Flint, do come in," Professor Umbridge said, her smile not quite meeting her eyes.

Carolina, for her part, had quite a difficult time holding in her derisive laughter. The architecture of the room was the same as it had been when she had last been there, for tea with Professor Lupin, the desk was even in the same place, but the decor had changed drastically.

The stone walls of the office had been painted a horrible shade of pink and all along them were these dainty china plates with mewling kittens painted onto them. The curtains were pink crushed velvet. It was all rather tasteless. For the first time in her life, Carolina wished that her mother was with her, if only to commiserate about the grotesque fashion of the room. Her mother, despite her flaws, did have taste.

"Did you need something?" Umbridge's falsely nice voice cut through the room.

"Oh, er, I have an announcement for the Gryffindor notice board, pending your approval, ma'am," Carolina said, her eyes bouncing back to the squat woman. It was just then, when her attention had turned to the room's occupants instead of the garish decoration, that Carolina noticed that Umbridge wasn't alone.

There, seated at a desk in front of the Defense Professor's was Fred Weasley. Carolina wondered how she had missed his obvious scowl. Perhaps it was that his hair nearly blended in with the wall coloring, so bright was the paint job.

"Bring it here then, girl," Umbridge said, sticking out a chubby hand.

Carolina shuffled over, before placing the parchment in Umbridge's outstretched fingers. Standing awkwardly to the side as Umbridge looked over the paper, Carolina shot a glance at the redhead. His arms were crossed and he was quite openly glaring at the professor.

"Tut-tut, I have half a mind not to post this…" Umbridge trailed off, before turning her attention to Carolina. "I must say, allowing the Gryffindor team to try out new players would only condone the actions of their previous players, don't you agree, Mr. Weasley?"

Fred said nothing, determinedly glaring just beyond Umbridge's pink headband. Carolina coughed. She personally didn't agree, but for the life of her couldn't see how openly disagreeing with Umbridge could benefit her at all in this situation. She glanced again towards Fred. His heated glare had now turned towards her, as if daring her to speak.

"Well, professor, just because there are a few bad apples, doesn't mean the whole tree is rotten," Carolina said, actively looking anywhere except at redhead.

"Really?" Umbridge said in her squeaky falsetto, before turning her malicious gaze back to the student seated in front of her. "I quite think it does…" She paused, allowing her eyes to linger on Fred. She turned back to Carolina. "That being said, I suppose Minerva would only bring the issue to the headmaster again. I really must write Cornelius about sporting events," she added as an afterthought.

Carolina felt her insides twist at that comment; Umbridge knew that she had no power to stop the Gryffindor team from holding try-outs, yet had obviously flaunted the idea that she could in an attempt to bate Fred. It was utterly unprofessional, un-professor-ly even.

"Oh, is that the time?" Umbridge said lightly, checking the watch that was strapped too tightly to her pudgy wrist. "You may go," she indicated to Fred. "Same time tomorrow, if you will, Mr. Weasley." She grinned, bearing her sharp tiny teeth and puffy gums. "Ms. Flint, if you would escort Mr. Weasley back to his common room, I believe it is just after curfew," she said, showing her teeth again, in an obvious attempt to further punish either Fred or Carolina… though Carolina wasn't sure who.

"Yes, professor," Carolina said, before turning her back and strutting out of the room. She really couldn't get out of that office fast enough; the pink hue was turning her claustrophobic by the millisecond.

As she exited back into the dimly lit hallway, she felt a sigh of relief leave her body. Spending time in Umbridge's presence was taxing—and she often felt that despite the impossibility of Umbridge knowing that she was behind the 'Concerned Student' letters, that the Defense Professor did indeed suspect her.

"You don't actually have to walk me back to the Gryffindor common room," Fred said, emerging from the office moments later, his hands clasped behind his back.

Carolina shrugged. "Might as well; I have rounds on the seventh and sixth floors anyways," she said, as they began to walk, their footsteps quietly echoing down the stone corridor.

After a moment, Fred broke the silence. "So, I'm a bad apple, then?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and looking at Carolina out of the corner of his eye.

"She was obviously bating you, what was I supposed to say to her?" Carolina snarled. Was he that dim that he couldn't understand that it was useless to thwart Umbridge's authority right in front of her? That if Carolina had said anything else, she would most likely have ended up in detention herself?

"I don't know, I can think of a few things I'd like to say to her," Fred responded darkly.

"Oh? Such as?" Carolina queried.

Fred paused for a moment, squinting his eyes slightly.

"Go fuck yourself, you bloated toad?" He offered, earning a rather unladylike snort from the Head Girl beside him.

"Bloody hell!" Carolina whispered in an attempt to contain her giggles. "You don't half hold back, do you?"

Fred shrugged. "You asked."

Carolina felt a shiver run down her spine as they fell into a comfortable silence. She was used to walking around the castle after dark, she did it most evenings as Head Girl anyways, but for some reason, she felt particularly on edge tonight.

She eyed the ginger who was walking beside her, his arms still behind his back, as if he was taking a calming afternoon stroll through the English countryside.

Carolina awkwardly cleared her throat, before saying, "that was unfair of her, you know, to ban you from Quidditch. Completely uncalled for. She had no right."

Fred's expression darkened. "Well, she did it anyway."

"I know, but it's absolutely ridiculous—"

"Ridiculous to you, is it?" Fred shot back.

"No, no, I just mean that you didn't do anything! I understand punishing your brother and Potter—although the punishment severely outweighed the action—but you… I saw the whole thing. You didn't lay a finger on him!"

"I know," Fred said darkly, before adding, "thanks…"

"She can't ban any of you from quidditch, actually," Carolina continued. "She doesn't have the authority, it has to be a court ruling if it is a lifetime ban; she can only ban you within Hogwarts. I looked it up."

"Until the next bloody educational decree. Wait, you looked it up?"

Carolina blushed as his blue eyes turned towards her curiously. "Er, yeah... well, you know, I just… was reading in the library…"

"Yeah?" Fred said, smirking slightly and turning his gaze back to the moving staircase they were now approaching.

"Yeah, you know, it just came up in a book I was reading…"

"You're a pretty shite liar, you know," Fred said casually.

"I am not!" Carolina countered with a huff.

Fred raised his eyebrows at her, causing Carolina to cross her arms indignantly.

"Fine! I was researching it—but she just makes me so angry! She's completely overstepping her role at the ministry, and there's absolutely no oversight! Our entire bloody government just does whatever Fudge wants and the daily prophet only reports what he tells them to and she's smack out of line! It's historically unprecedented! Even the bloody Americans have a more democratic government than ours!"

Fred paused in front of a portrait of a rather plump woman in a ballroom gown.

"Carolina," he said slowly, "you do realize why they're not reporting anything, and why Fudge sent Umbridge to Hogwarts in the first place?"

"I—well," Carolina started with uncertainty, before pausing.

"For someone who's such a bloody know-it-all, you're actually rather short-sighted."

"I am not," Carolina countered, angrily. They had been having a decent conversation and he just had to ruin it by insulting her…

"You don't see what's going on, even when it's right under your own nose," Fred said, furrowing his brow. "Even when it involves your own family…"

Carolina frowned at him as her shoulder hunched up defensively. "Marcus was lying. That wasn't my father at the World Cup, if that's what you're talking about."

"It wasn't?" Fred asked. "Why would he lie about that?"

"He was just trying to get a rise out of you," Carolina said.

"And you really think Marcus is smart enough to plan that conversation in order to do so?" Fred countered, moving his arms from behind his back to cross in front of him.

"I…" Carolina started again. Truth be told, Marcus was often much more obvious with his arguments and insults, normally angling for something along the lines of 'you're dumb' or 'go to hell.' It could have been the effect of Draco Malfoy, but Carolina thought she had a pretty good handle on when her brother was lying to her. She was much better at it, anyways.

"You're normally so logical," Fred said quietly.

Carolina felt her cheeks color again, this time from shame. He was right, and she knew it.

"I suppose… well, I suppose I just hadn't put much thought into it." She couldn't meet his eyes that were now staring right at her. Instead she studied the portrait they were stopped in front of. The woman in the puffy dress seemed to be asleep, though her chest was rising and falling a bit too dramatically to be believable.

"Well, _you_ don't have to," Fred said with a bitter tone ringing through his voice. "It's not like You-Know-Who coming back is going to affect your life that much, is it, Flint?" He said her last name harshly, nearly spitting the word out of his mouth.

"I…" Carolina began, unsure of what to say, but Fred continued on:

"You haven't thought about it, have you? You realize it's a complete privilege not to spend your days worrying if your family's going to be attacked, or if your dad's going to be sacked from his job… that all you have to worry about is your N.E.W.T.s—"

"That's not all I'm worried about!" Carolina countered, her voice growing louder. He was making her out to be a total halfwit. "If you haven't noticed, I'm rather preoccupied with the fact that our government—"

"This isn't about our government!" Fred interrupted.

"Yes it is—" she tried to squeeze in, but he continued talking.

"This is about the fact that your father supports bloody Voldemort!" His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, and Carolina felt an involuntary shiver roll up her spine at the utterance of the name.

"I… he…." Carolina began, but something caught her eye. "Your hand; you're bleeding."

Fred pulled his wrist closer to his face. Indeed, he had been clenching his fists so tightly that the scar on the back of his hand had opened up again and blood was now trickling down his arm.

"It's nothing," he said, making to move his hands behind is back again, but Carolina was quicker as she grabbed hold of his wrist and yanked it towards herself for inspection.

"This doesn't look like nothing," she said prissily as she waved her wand, siphoning the blood off of him. "It's… Did she do this?" She whispered as she inspected the scar. It wasn't really a scar; or it was, but it actually appeared to be a series of words engraved into his skin. "Ill will... breeds ill deeds?" Carolina read softly, quirking her head to the side to better see the faint letters.

"George and Harry got 'I must not tell lies,'" Fred murmured, shifting his eyes to the ground.

Carolina delicately waved her wand over his hand again as the skin seemed to seamlessly sew itself closed. "She can't do this. It's inhumane!"

Fred merely shrugged. "She'll get hers; George and I will make sure of that."

"Still, this can't be allowed to go on! She doesn't have the administrative power to inflict punishment like this, only—"

"Actually she does. It was in Monday's paper. Educational decree Number twenty-five or something."

"Another one?" Carolina said alarmedly. "Bollocks, I must have missed it! Now I'll have to write another—oh, er…" she trailed off, looking abashedly down, before pocketing her wand.

"It's fine, Carolina, I know that you write them. Knew since the first one."

"Oh."

"They're uh… good, you know? Well written."

"Thanks…" Carolina finally looked back up into his eyes, only to find the hint of a smirk present in the upturned sides of his mouth.

"Sound a bit like an encyclopedia, but still rather good, I'd wager," Fred replied, the smirk now fully emerging.

"Oh, shut up," Carolina said, pushing his shoulder slightly, before realizing how awkward her light punch was, and dropping her hand back to her side. "Uh, I'd better get on with my rounds. And you should go to bed; it's after curfew!"

"Whatever you say, Madam Prefect," Fred said winking as he turned towards the portrait of the dozing fat woman.

"That's Madam Head Girl to you!" Carolina called back, grinning as she skipped down the hallway, feeling particularly more light underfoot.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

* * *

" _...The crux of the matter is that in any other private organization, our government holds no power over the discipline of employees that are not actually employed by the Ministry of Magic itself. It is not allowed to terminate the employee of a Gringott's goblin or punish a shopkeeper for opening their shop late. Seeing as Hogwarts is, and has been for its entire history, an independent institution, without money or influence from the Ministry of Magic-indeed, the school existed before the Ministry-one has to question whether the recently appointed High Inquisitor should hold any power over the punishment of students beyond that of a normal teacher, or whether her placement here is indicative a new rise in Wizarding fascism."_

Carolina stared down at the concluding paragraph of a two foot parchment that was once again addressed to the editor of the Daily Prophet but that was unlikely to ever be published in the periodical.

This one was significantly longer than her previous letters… hearing Fred's support had for some reason put her in a rather inspired mood and since she felt that the educational decree was particularly unfair to whichever house Umbridge decided to pick on that day (though normally it was the Gryffindors), she had let herself get a little bit carried away for this one.

Well, it would have to do for now, she thought to herself. The ending was a bit dramatic, but not entirely inaccurate either. She rolled up the parchment and checked her watch. She would have to go to the owlery later; Transfiguration would be starting in five minutes' time.

She dropped her quill into her bag and pushed her chair back into the long library table that she had claimed as hers years before.

The classroom was almost full when she arrived, claiming the empty desk next to Adrian and Miles. She pulled out her quill again and began to jot down the notes McGonagall had left them on the chalkboard.

" _Nonverbal human-to-inanimate-object transfiguration visualization practices…"_

"Is this seat taken?" Carolina's spine went rigid and her head whipped around.

Apparently, not having the patience to wait for her answer, Fred Weasley had already occupied the empty seat on her left.

"Well, I suppose it is now," she huffed, pursing her lips slightly.

She quickly turned her head to her right. Adrian and Miles were both giving her distinct looks; one of pity from Adrian and one of malice… that seemed to be directed at Fred from Miles.

She coughed, feeling slightly caught in the crosshairs and more than slightly uncomfortable .

"Today, we will be practicing transfiguring our partner's extremities into inanimate objects. You will most certainly be tested on this for the practical part of your N.E.W.T. Montague, if you would collect the homework," McGonagall said, rising from her desk now that the full class was present.

"You already know the spell-it is the same general inanimate object transfiguration however to change something as complicated as human vertebrate, flesh and bones, into… say, a teakettle, it will require a great deal more concentration than you are used to giving your spellwork." She paused as Graham handed her the collected essays.

"I find that the best method involves visualizing a familiar object, one already known to you-something abstract, that you have never seen before, is near impossible. Now," she said, clasping her hands, "your partners today will be your desk mates. You may begin. You may start verbally, however I would appreciate if you would attempt nonverbal transfiguration as well before the class is over."

"Wotcher, partner!" Fred said cheerfully, turning his chair to face Carolina.

Carolina eyed him shrewdly… he had been a good enough potions partner, good enough conversationalist, but she wasn't sure how she felt about having him practice nonverbal transfiguration on her. That required a specific level of trust that she definitely didn't instill upon him.

"Hello, Fred."

"Ladies first?" Fred asked, grinning.

"If by that you mean that you'll lower your wand, then certainly," Carolina replied, raising her own. "How do you feel about shoes for hands?"

"Did you know," Fred said, storing his wand in his robe, "that the only thing I ever wanted growing up was to have shoes for hands?" He grinned at her cheekily. "Give it a go, Madam Head Girl!"

Carolina concentrated, imagining her mother's strappy red dragonhide heels… the ones with little christmas bows on the toes.

She had already read the chapter in their textbook on this. It wouldn't be too difficult, she thought to herself, before twirling her wand and saying the spell.

"Whoa!" Fred exclaimed as his left hand suddenly sprouted a heel, turned red and developed bows on the end of each of his fingers.

"Hm…" Carolina muttered, not thrilled with her result. Maybe this was harder than it appeared in the textbook. "Don't move." She quickly turned his hand back to normal.

Her second try was closer, though she still couldn't get rid of the individual fingers and instead of ending up with one shoe, she ended up with five miniature ones.

Fred waggled his fingers, before drumming them on the desk in front of him. "I quite like the sound of these! Hey boys…" he said, bringing his shoe-hand up to his face and waving coquettishly at Adrian and Miles who had been not-so-secretly observing Carolina's progress.

Adrian's eyes went wide and he quickly turned his back on the duo, though Miles only sneered. "Those shoes look like dragonhide… what's it like wearing something that's worth more than your parents' house, Weasley?"

"Oh, shut up, Miles," Carolina said, though neither Fred nor Miles seemed to hear her.

"Oh, do you like them? Fancy seeing them up close?" Fred responded threateningly, curling his shoe-fingered hand into a fist.

"Fred!" Carolina whispered, grabbing his hand and forcing it back onto the desk. "Focus!"

Fred frowned at Miles, before dragging his eyes back to his partner.

"Sorry," Carolina said. "Miles is a twat. But really, don't move your hand."

Her third attempt at the spell was even worse than her second, but by the sixth, she felt confident enough to endeavor doing it nonverbally, and with a rather successful result in her opinion, she put her wand away and allowed Fred to take his turn. This however, only lasted about five minutes until Carolina felt that her personal health was at risk from his malpractice.

"You're doing it wrong…" Carolina said under her breath, glaring at the redhead facing her.

"I am not!" Fred protested, jabbing his wand forward so that it almost took out Carolina's left eye.

"You're supposed to be transfiguring me, not blinding me!" Carolina responded. "Don't point your wand there!"

"Can you just let me do it?"

"Not if you're going to accidentally vanish my eyeballs!"

"Maybe if you weren't so bloody distracting, then I'd be able to-" Fred responded, exasperated.

"Oh, I'm distracting, am I? That's bloody rich, coming from you! You can hardly sit still for more than twenty seconds!"

"Just because-"

"Wands away, students!" called out Professor McGonagall. "Please write down the homework-a foot of parchment on the results of transfiguration on the nervous system and skeletal structure of vertebrates to be handed in next class. And please continue to practice your spellwork. You may go!"

Carolina quickly scribbled the homework into her planner, before angrily shoving it and her quill into her book bag.

"Ow!" Carolina yelped, pulling her hand out as quick as lightning. Something had burnt her.

She opened her bag and peered in. She should have known, it was only the bewitched galleon that Hermione had made for the D.A. members sitting at the bottom of her bag.

She hesitantly reached in and poked it-it wasn't nearly so scalding now… She pulled it out and inspected the little letters around the rim. They had another meeting tonight after dinner.

"Looks like I'll be seeing you later," she said darkly to Fred, before turning on her heel and storming out of the classroom. He was bloody aggravating sometimes.

"Oi! Caro!" Carolina heard Adrian call from behind her and she slowed her determined pace to the great hall.

"Wait up!" he called again and Carolina stopped in front of a portrait of a young boy with two heads.

"Yes?" she said callously, still in a bad mood.

"You got out of there quick," Adrian said, panting slightly at the exertion caused by running to catch up to her.

"Probably sick of Weasley, huh?" Miles added, catching up them as well.

Carolina merely shrugged, before continuing on her way to the Great Hall. She didn't particularly feel like discussing this with them.

"Was he bugging you?" Adrian asked.

"Looked a little too comfortable sitting there, in my opinion," Miles continued. "Want us to hex him for you?"

"I am perfectly capable of hexing him myself, thank you very much," Carolina responded quickly. "I don't need you two to defend me!"

"Merlin, somebody's in a bad mood," muttered Miles.

"Jeez, Caro, we're just looking out for you!" Adrian said as they sat down at the Slytherin table.

"And I don't need you to," Carolina reiterated, pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice. "I don't know if you noticed but while you both were still struggling with the spell, I was able to do it nonverbally!"

"Oh, good for you!" Miles said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Adrian frowned. "I don't know what's got your knickers in a twist, but when you're done being all high and mighty, I'd sure as hell like my friend back."

Carolina glared at him. Her knickers were not in a twist. She was just fed up with the annoying boys in her life. Her mind flashed back to Fred. She couldn't understand how the other night, during her rounds he had been so… so understanding, so charming, and yet today he had acted in the opposite fashion.

She decided that it was better to eat quickly and get a bit of work done afterwards than to spend any more time with these two nitwits, who both seemed to be pissed off at her now, so she scarfed down her brussel sprouts and potatoes as fast as she could.

"I'm going to study," Carolina said coldly to Adrian and Miles after a short dinner. She pushed her plate away and stood up off the bench and headed out of the Great Hall that still had students trickling in for their supper.

She supposed she had better get started on her Transfiguration homework seeing as how she was supposed to organize the prefects to decorate the Great Hall on the first of December for Christmas. On the other hand, she only had about forty minutes until the D.A. meeting… Maybe better to just go there and try to get some reading done before the others showed up.

So she quickly adjusted her route to head to the Room of Requirement instead of the library.

Walking past the blank slab of wall three times, she watched as the door materialized from the cold stone. She pulled it open and quickly disappeared inside.

She walked over to the pile of cushions they normally used to practice stunning each other, pulling one out and plopping down on it. She searched through her book bag, before extracting her Transfiguration book and was about to open it when something caught her eye. On the shelf next to her was a book much more enticing… "A history of ministry-banned spellwork…" Carolina mumbled aloud, before opening the book and diving in.

She hadn't been reading fifteen minutes when she heard the door open and peaked her head up to see if the session would be starting soon.

"Oh, it's you," Carolina said nonplussed, before turning back to the book in her lap. "Why're you here so early anyways?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Fred stated back.

Carolina brought her eyes back up to look at him. "I'm reading, obviously."

"Oh-yeah, well, I see that." He paused, scratching the back of his head. "Actually, I saw you leave the Great Hall early and thought-well, I just wanted to say that I was acting like a twat earlier and that-"

"You were," Carolina interrupted him.

"Do you ever let anybody get a word in edgewise?" Fred huffed.

Carolina looked at him, before cracking a grin. He had come to apologize after all, she supposed. "Nope."

"Would be nice if you came with a note that said so-like a 'talk to at your own risk' warning," Fred said, a smirk playing at his lips.

"You were saying…" Carolina said, raising her eyebrows.

"Right, yeah. I guess I was a little pissed that it was taking me so many tries to get the spell when you did it so quickly. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Carolina smiled back down at her book. "I didn't actually do it that quickly... but I should have done a better job teaching you," she said earnestly, looking back up at him. "I'm not great at that."

Fred chuckled, before copying her previous tone. "Nope. Can't be great at everything."

"I beg to differ!" Carolina protested. "At least, one can certainly endeavor to!"

"And what are you endeavoring to be great at tonight?" Fred said, plopping down next to her and pulling the book out of her hands. "Banned magic?" He raised his eyebrows. "This is certainly nothing the Head Girl should be reading!"

"Give it back," Carolina said, swiping the volume back from him. "I'm not actually practicing any banned magic."

"You wouldn't, would you…"

"I-" Carolina started, aiming to counter him, but she paused. "Well, I… I suppose I wouldn't."

Fred burst out laughing and Carolina blushed.

"You're always good for a laugh, Carolina," he said once he had controlled his laughter. Carolina averted his intense gaze as he said her name, deciding instead to straighten the hem of her skirt. "Though I reckon you put too much in store by the rules… what would you do if you had to choose between using a banned spell and going to Azkaban?"

"Well, I'd probably end up in Azkaban either way… if the spell is dangerous enough to be banned… So, I suppose I wouldn't use it."

Fred raised his eyebrows. "Have you ever broken any rule?"

"I have!" Carolina said, then paused, trying to think of what she had done.

"Besides those letters you're writing and besides the D.A…" Fred added.

"Oh, well… I've.. well, you know this; I've hexed Marcus a handful of times."

Fred grinned again. "How could I have forgotten? That's my favorite thing about you. Speaking of your brother, are you going home for the holidays?"

Carolina eyed him shrewdly. He seemed a little too keen, in her opinion, to hear her answer.

"No," she said after a pause. "I don't really want to be around to witness my parents showing off my brother at parties like he was their prized pig. Are you?"

"I was considering it… but George and I reckon we might get more done here than at the Burrow."

"Get more of what done?" Carolina questioned, finally closing her book.

Just then, the doorway opened again and a slew of D.A. members rushed in.

Fred smiled and jumped up to his feet. "I'm afraid, seeing as you're the Head Girl, I'm not able to tell you," he said, offering a hand out to her.

She clasped it and he pulled her to her feet, before winking at her and walking over to his brother and Lee, who were chatting rather jubilantly with another Gryffindor girl.

Carolina felt a strange tightening in her stomach as she watched them, but she quickly shook her head and stored her newly acquired book in her bag. So, Fred would be staying at Hogwarts over the Holidays as well… She had been certain that choosing to stay would be the lesser of two evils-or more accurately, mildly less miserable than returning home but, with him and his brother around, it might not be miserable at all...

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hello everybody! Once again, thank you to my reviewers! I'm always so happy to hear from you. I love writing dialogue between Fred and Carolina.. What are your thoughts on their interactions? Also, I hope you all have a great halloween!_


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-eight**

* * *

The semester seemed to fly by in a flurry of essays, prefect meetings and rounds, late night runs to the kitchens after D.A. meetings, sometimes joined by Fred, and weekends spent studying for her N.E.W.T.s. Despite her busy schedule, Carolina felt rather jolly as she entered the Room of Requirement for their last session of the semester. Her practical ability to perform defensive spells had skyrocketed exponentially over the past few months, despite Umbridge's effort to stunt their defensive education-a fact that filled her body with mirth.

"I was thinking that today we might go over everything that we've been practicing so far-" Harry started, once everyone was present and accounted for, before being interrupted by the smug Hufflepuff boy Carolina had learned was called Zacharias Smith.

"Had I known we wouldn't be doing anything new, I wouldn't have come," he huffed.

"And what a loss that would have been," Fred responded sarcastically, eliciting giggles from around the room. Carolina felt the sides of her mouth quirk upwards too as he caught her eye and winked.

"When we get back," Harry continued, once the laughter had quieted down, "I was thinking we could start working on casting patronuses," he said, to many nods of approval and excitement.

"For now, let's get into pairs and start off with the basics," he instructed.

Carolina was about to walk over to Neville again-generally people wanted to be his partner just as much as they wanted to be hers, so she often found herself paired with him-but was interrupted by the familiar tones of Fred Weasley.

"Partners?" he asked, raising one eyebrow questioningly.

Carolina nodded, before smiling at him. "Sure."

Fred was quite better than Neville, and Carolina found that he was much quicker with his shield charm, and much more on target with his spellwork, demanding that she too be quicker than she was used to-it was a good change of pace, she decided.

"Alright, we're going to transition to practicing stunning spells, if everyone could help put out the cushions!" Harry called, about halfway through the session.

Carolina stopped, wiping the sweat from her brow and grinning at Fred. "You're not half bad, Weasley," she said as they both grabbed a couple pillows. "Better than Transfiguration, at least," she added.

Fred winked at her. "Next time I won't go easy on you."

"Oh, you were going easy, were you?" Carolina quipped back. In fact, she hadn't been dueling with all of her power either, opting instead to focus on her nonverbal spellwork. She knew that if she were to vocalize the spells, they'd probably be quite a bit stronger-though they wouldn't catch him off guard.

After setting up the pillows, Harry divided the group in half-since stunning took up quite a bit more room than the other spells they'd been practicing-and Carolina and Fred started off observing the first half of the D.A. stun each other.

As Carolina looked around, she was rather impressed. Potter wasn't a terrible teacher; nearly all of her peers showed significant improvement, their wandwork more precise, their spells more often on mark...

Soon enough, the first round of stunning was over.

"You first?" Carolina asked Fred as they moved away from the side of the room.

"Sure," Fred agreed as they positioned themselves about ten feet apart.

"Stupefy!" She heard the surrounding pairs call out, followed by Fred's own voice, ringing through the great room.

"Protego!" she thought in her head, slashing her wand through the air, and sure enough, her shield spell blocked most of his-though Carolina felt something akin to a punch in the gut, and staggered backwards. Maybe not strong enough then, she thought to herself.

"Stupefy!" Fred called again and this time Carolina decided to vocalize her charm.

"Protego!" she yelled out, and Fred's spell ricochets off her invisible barrier and hits the ceiling, sending sparks shattering above them.

"Oof!" Carolina let out, as she felt her feet leave the floor, her body being pushed back several feet. She landed on her bum. Apparently she wasn't paying close enough attention and Fred had gotten her with his own nonverbal stunning spell-though it was significantly weaker than his verbal versions of the spell. She picked herself up, only winded.

"Your turn?" Fred asked, a smug smile pulling at his lips.

"My turn," Carolina replied resolutely, staring at her target.

She twirled her wand through the air, shooting a stunning spell at him, but he was ready and deftly deflected it.

Again, she thought, and whipped her wand back at him, but he blocked it once more.

She paused, feeling the eyes of the other members on her. She didn't want to appear weak… or appear like she wasn't as good as him.

She lowered her wand slightly and watched as he did too, smirking at her before…

"Stupefy!" she yelled out with every ounce of her being and felt the resulting spell force its power out of her wand and vibrate through her hand and up her arm.

She watched as Fred futilely swiped his wand through the air, trying to summon a nonverbal shield, before being blasted off his feet and falling limply on a pile of cushions behind him.

"Oh!" Carolina called out, running over to his side. She hadn't meant for it to be that powerful. "Bollocks," she murmured upon reaching him and crouching down. He was knocked out completely cold, eyes closed and mouth agog.

"Remind me not to ever cross you, Flint," George said, walking up to them, followed by Lee.

"I didn't mean for it to be… like that…" she said, her face paling as she stared down at Fred's limp form. "Enerverate…" she muttered pointing her wand at the boy in front of her, but Fred hardly stirred. "Bollocks," she repeated

"Enerverate," George tried, saying it more confidently than Carolina, though it had about the same effect. She looked up at him and he merely shrugged, giving her a mildly frightened look.

"Aguamenti," she tried, and a burst of cold water spurted out of her wand, drenching Fred's face.

"Argh!" Fred called out, shaking his head wildly; apparently, water seemed to do the trick.

Carolina quickly flicked her wand and the water stopped. "I'm so sorry, Fred, I didn't think-didn't think that would happen."

"Couldn't you just enerverate me like a normal person?" Fred snarled, looking angrily up at her as he began to prop himself up.

"Mate, she tried, but you were out cold," Lee cut in and Carolina shot him a grateful look.

"Really?" Fred replied, his hateful stare turning impressed. "That strong, huh?"

Carolina bit her lip, before opening her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Harry, calling for their attention.

"I think that about does it for tonight," he said, eying Carolina and Fred with a bit of worry. "Great work, all of you… Tremendous work this semester. You should all be really proud!"

He was received with a smattering of applause. "Remember, let's exit in pairs, guys," he continued.

"You alright?" Carolina asked, offering Fred her hand up. He took it and unsteadily made his way to standing, before dropping her hand and rubbing the back of his head.

"Never better," he joked, looking a little dazed still.

"Listen, I'm really sorry, and for the water," Carolina said, before pulling out her wand and pointing it at him. "Here, tergeo," she finished as Fred flinched. She quickly siphoned the water off of him, leaving him dry and a little red around the ears.

"Carolina, it's fine," he said, eying her wand warily.

"You sure?" Carolina asked, watching the rest of the D.A. trickle out of the room.

"It's really okay. C'mon, let's get out of here," he said gesturing to her, Lee and George. "By the way, Harry," he said as the four approached the bespectacled boy, "George and I reckon we could slip a puking pastille into Umbridge's tea!"

"Maybe even fever fudge," George added, grinning.

"Yeah, that's great, guys, could you excuse me for a moment?" Harry responded distractedly pushing past them.

"Intentionally poisoning a professor? I'm going to pretend like I didn't just hear that," Carolina said as they exited the room.

"Pretend away," Fred winked at her, seemingly (and finally) back to his usual self.

"Right, I guess I'll see you all later," Carolina said quietly. They had reached the staircase; Carolina was headed down to the dungeons and they were going to continue up, she supposed.

"See you, Flint," George responded as he and Lee kept walking.

Fred paused, looking at her as if he wanted to say something, before turning away and following his brother and friend.

Carolina let out a deep breath that she hadn't known she'd been holding inside of her and turned away. She didn't know how she felt about stupefying Fred so severely; she figured that she was supposed to feel proud that she had performed such admirable spellwork but something felt knotted in her stomach…

Just as she was thinking this, she felt her foot fall too far in front of her and she stumbled, placing her other foot down as well, but it too sank deeper than the stair.

"Bloody hell," she whispered aloud. It was that good-for-nothing trick stair. She hadn't been looking where she was stepping. She tried to reach over to the banister to pull herself out it was too far away and there was nothing to grip onto on the stone wall.

"Bollocks," she repeated for the third time that evening. "Oy!" she called out softly, hoping that the right people would hear, meaning anyone but Umbridge. "Oy!" she tried again slightly louder. "Fred! George!" Maybe they were still nearby. There was no answer. She tried to think if anyone would be coming down this way from the Room of Requirement but nearly all of her classmates had left the room before her, at least all of the Hufflepuffs had and they were the only ones descending…

"Fred?" she called again, even louder this time. She felt herself growing panicky; what if she were stuck here all night?

"Carolina?" she heard quietly from up the stairs and she tried to twist herself around to face him though it was difficult the way that her legs were stuck; but there he was, staring quizzically down at her from the top of the staircase. "You alright?"

"I'm stuck in the bloody trick stair," she whispered up to him, finally able to twist her torso around.

Fred chuckled. "I can see that."

"Could you give me a hand?" Carolina asked. Why was he still standing up there?

"Oh, I don't know," he smirked. "I'm not sure how inclined I am to help the girl who knocked me out and then tried to drown me," he said, though he took a step down.

"I didn't try to drown you!" Carolina hushed back. "I was trying to wake you up!"

"Semantics," Fred replied, crossing his arms, and stepping down again.

"What? No, it's not," Carolina responded huffily.

Fred merely raised his eyebrows.

"Please?" she tried again after a pause, hoping he would just jump down the few steps between them already and help her out.

"Oh, what was that?" Fred stepped one step closer. "Please, what?"

Carolina glared at him. Why did he have to do this now? "Please, Fred, could you help me out of the trick stair?" she growled at him.

"Why certainly, Madam Head Girl!" he responded jovially, the glint of a smirk still in his eye as he bounded down the remaining steps towards her. "Arms out!"

"What?" Carolina asked, confusion written across her face.

"Listen, George and I have gotten stuck here plenty of times; I've perfected the trick to getting out. Now, arms out," he said, gesturing for her to open her arms sideways.

Carolina hesitantly lifted her arms, gasping in slightly as he linked his beneath hers.

"Okay, on the count of three… one, two, three… oh!"

Carolina felt herself get lifted up, but Fred, having perhaps been so used to pulling his twin out that he overestimated her weight and underestimated his own strength, and no sooner had she been pulled out, then she felt herself falling again, though this time, onto him as he lost his footing and stumbled backwards up the stairs. Carolina watched in horror-as if in slow motion-as they fell, getting nearer and nearer to him, until she tightly shut her eyes, feeling her face collide with his.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry-I keep injuring you-are you okay?" Carolina whispered quickly, beginning to pick herself up and biting her lip. She hoped he hadn't noticed, but for a moment as they landed, their mouths had touched, although her nose was rather sorer from the impact. She really shouldn't be making it a habit to injure him as often as she did, she thought to herself as her cheeks blushed.

"Did you just kiss me?" Fred asked, propping himself up on his elbows and smirking up at her.

"What? No, of course not-er, I didn't mean to," Carolina replied, standing up fully and crossing her arms.

"I think you did-oh, bollocks; it's Filch's bloody cat," Fred said, scrambling to his feet and grabbing her elbow, as the mangy creature approached them. "Let's go; he's probably nearby."

"Mrow..."

"What's that, my sweet? Students out of bed? We heard voices, didn't we..." They heard from around the corner. He was close. Carolina let Fred drag her up the staircase so fast that she felt nearly winded at the top.

Fred paused, looking left then right. "In here," he gestured, before diving behind a tapestry of a unicorn, pulling Carolina by the wrist with him.

"Oh!" Caroline let out a hushed exclamation as she was immediately dragged into a pitch black alcove behind the tapestry.

"Bollocks," Fred murmured from in front of her. He was rather close, Carolina noted; she could hear his individual breaths and his hand was still clutching her wrist. "I thought this was the passageway to the North Tower but that must be the tapestry of the three dancing apes…"

"Does this not go anywhere?" Carolina whispered back, before raising her right arm and stretching it out to the side. It immediately hit stone. "Oh, I guess not… I suppose we should wait for Filch to pass and then head back down the stairwell?"

Fred didn't respond, so she turned to look at him-or at least where she assumed his head to be; it was so completely dark behind the tapestry that she couldn't see any of the details of his face-only a slight three-dimensional disturbance in the surrounding blackness.

"What do you think?" she continued, hoping to gauge his opinion on their predicament.

"I think you kissed me," Fred said smugly. She could practically hear the smirk, despite not being able to see it on his face.

"That wasn't a kiss!" she refuted with furrowed eyebrows, though she felt her cheeks grow warm. "I just… landed on you."

"I don't know, Carolina," he teased. "I'm pretty sure your mouth was on mine for at least a millisecond."

"Well, that's not what kissing is!"

"Oh, really? How would you define it then?" Fred chuckled, soliciting a glare from Carolina; he was obviously finding enjoyment in her discomfort.

"Kissing is-it's when two people-they…" Carolina started, again feeling her cheeks grow even hotter. "Do you really need me to define it for you?"

"Well, under my definition, we just kissed," Fred quipped back.

"No. We. Didn't!" Carolina argued. Why was he trying to provoke her like this? She could feel herself growing angrier and angrier, disliking to be refuted so frequently.

"Sure, but why don't you tell me what kissing is, then?"

"It's…" Carolina started, before her mind settled on something. "Oh, sod it," she muttered, grabbing his face between her hands and pulling his lips to hers.

Fred responded immediately, as his mouthed moved with hers. She felt his hands snake around her waist and pull her body closer to his.

He tasted like… like cinnamon, she supposed, though she couldn't put her finger on it. Like cloves, maybe… something heartier.

She found that she quite enjoyed it-more than Felix, at least, and certainly more than Dorian's wet and sloppy tongue. His body was warm, his hands steady and his mouth seemed to move in unison with hers, predicting her every move… It was just as his mouth separated from hers and began kissing her neck that she finally pulled away, taking a loud breath in.

"Fred," she started, and he pulled his head up to look directly at hers. She could just see the fraction of light from beneath the tapestry reflecting off his eyes. "That's kissing."

Fred let out a chuckle in response. "Bloody hell, I can't believe that worked…"

"Worked? What do you mean?" Carolina said, confusion in her voice.

"Getting you to kiss me," Fred responded simply, a grin forming on his lips. "I've argued with you enough times to know that you'll do pretty much anything to prove you're right."

Carolina felt her stomach drop. Had this been another prank of his? Why, he had the nerve…

"You absolute wanker, you bloody-"

"Mrow!"

"Sh!" Fred slapped a hand to her lips and leaned in. Just beyond the tapestry they could hear Mrs. Norris trodding about.

"Mrow!" she let out again.

"They went this way, did they, my sweet?" Filch's scratchy voice echoed into their alcove.

Fred removed his hand from Carolina's mouth and she let out a hesitant breath while he leaned in so close to Carolina that she could almost feel his mouth on her ear. "I'm not sure if I fully understood your definition of kissing… as you know, I'm a bit of a slow learner."

The hand that had been covering her mouth was now pushing her hair behind her ear… moving down her jaw line. Carolina felt herself shiver involuntarily.

"Could you show me again?" Fred asked innocently.

Carolina felt her breath catch as he kissed her neck again. She nodded meekly, not trusting her voice to say anything.

"Quietly," Fred said as he removed his mouth from her neck. "Who knows how long Filch'll be out there."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Well, that chapter happened... Sorry for the cliffhanger, I suppose. Let me know your thoughts on their first kiss! As always, thank you for the reviews from last week, as well as the faves and follows!_


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

* * *

"Do you know," Fred breathed out, "how long I've been wanting to do that?" He rested his forehead against hers.

Carolina felt slightly out of breath-they'd been snogging for what felt like hours-though it could have been minutes. Time felt as if it had somehow slipped out from between her fingers. Or perhaps like it had never existed in the first place…

"Do it again," she whispered playfully back and no sooner had she uttered those three words than his mouth was back on hers.

Soon enough, Fred pulled away again. He looked outwards to the tapestry. "I think he's gone by now," he whispered.

Carolina nodded, unable to form coherent thoughts. "Yeah."

He pulled back the tapestry slightly and peeked out, squinting, not used to the torchlight.

"Coast's clear," Fred said, making to move out into the corridor.

"Fred!" Carolina called in a hushed whisper, grabbing his hand. He turned back to look at her, raising and inquiring eyebrow. "I… I don't want to er, stop kissing you." She stared down at her mary-janes. Had she really just said that out loud? She felt rather pathetic.

Fred grinned at her, before clasping his fingers in hers. "You don't have to. Now, come on!" He said, pulling her out into the hallway.

She looked around, having almost forgotten where they had been hiding anyways. "That was a rather ugly tapestry," she said quietly, studying the unicorn.

Fred chuckled and said nothing, but pulled her quickly down the corridor and around the bend, stopping suddenly in front of the same portrait they had stopped at when she had walked him back to his common room after detention.

She stopped, pulling her hand out of his and sent him a questioning look.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Fred whispered to the fat lady in the portrait, which immediately swung open at his words. "You coming?"

"In there?" Carolina asked, aghast.

"Where else?" Fred asked.

Carolina looked around. She wasn't strictly allowed in the other houses' common rooms, even though she was Head Girl.

Fred, as if reading her mind, added, "Listen, Carolina, you've already broken a handful of rules tonight, what's one more?"

"I've never been in there!" Carolina whispered back, though futilely as he was already pulling her through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room.

Carolina looked around. Despite the late hour, the fire was still roaring and gave the room a hearty glow, even though all the lamps had been turned off. Red and gold tapestries lined the walls and stars glinted in the arched windows.

"It's quite-mmph!" Carolina started, but Fred silenced her, kissing her again. She sighed into the kiss, supposing she didn't really mind being interrupted by him… today, at least.

She felt him guide her over to the couch in front of the fireplace, felt her knees hit against its cushions and buckled beneath her, felt her back fall with a plop onto the plush seat, felt him carefully fall on top of her, somehow doing so without breaking the kiss, felt his hand cradle her cheek, felt his other hand move up her side, further and further up until…

"So, you had been saying you had wanted to do this for… how long?" Carolina asked, breaking apart and propping herself up on her elbows. Fred's hands dropped down again, and he quickly uprighted himself, leaning his elbow on the top of the couch.

"Since I saw you hex your git of a brother," he chuckled.

"One of my more glorious moments, huh?" Carolina laughed. In her opinion, that was maybe an even better reason to like someone than what they were reading… She did have a particularly nasty body-bind curse.

"Glorious, indeed," Fred grinned, before pulling her up to kiss him again.

Carolina wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her close. Had someone told a year ago-no, even a few months ago-that she'd be in the Gryffindor common room after hours snogging Fred Weasley, she'd have hardly believed them… yet here she was. She smiled to herself as Fred's hands moved down her spine. Yes, this was something completely unbelievable.

"Come here," Fred whispered to her, standing up and leading her up a set of stairs, continuing to kiss her on the way. He opened a door and pulled her into a dark, circular room. Carolina could just see when she opened her eyes that outline of the familiar four-poster beds, though these were draped in scarlet instead of bottle green like hers.

"Listen," Fred said seriously, pulling away from her as they approached a bed. "I just figure it's better to get out of the common room-we don't have to," he stuttered, interrupting himself. "Well, no funny business, alright?"

Carolina grinned. "No funny business," she agreed, before letting out a big yawn.

He took her hand, yet again, and pulled her over to the bed with him, kissing her cheek, her temple, her jaw… They lay down. Carolina felt her eyelids flutter shut once again and smiled as his lips moved back to hers. He was quite a superb kisser… And his bed was so comfortable… his arms so warm around her...

"Mr. Weasley! Ms… Flint?!" McGonagall's shocked face hovered where the curtains had been hanging, before being unceremoniously pulled apart.

"Oh my god!" Carolina let out, ripping herself away from Fred and immediately pulling down her skirt which had ridden up an inappropriate amount.

Fred seemed a little too shocked to put anything into words, instead allowing his jaw to hang agape.

"Mr. Weasley if you would so kindly rouse your brother; the two of you are wanted in the Headmaster's office immediately. Ms. Flint-"

"Right now?" Fred interrupted her, standing up nonetheless.

McGonagall gave him a look so severe-as if to say, "Yes, you moron, do you really think that I would be here if it weren't _right now?_ "-that he immediately scampered over to another bed with the curtains drawn.

She turned to Carolina with a shrewd look. "Ms. Flint, I suggest you return to your own common room, post-haste. I would never have expected this of you."

Carolina nodded numbly, before standing up herself. She felt as if she were going to cry, felt her eyes stinging, felt as if she had never been so ashamed in her life.

The walk back down to the dungeons was long, cold and lonesome and Carolina felt a great deal of relief as she finally collapsed into her four poster bed, wrapping the covers tightly around herself and burrowing her head into her pillow. How had she ever allowed herself to do that? To lie like that on his bed with him? To be seen like that? By McGonagall of all people…

Her eyelids were heavy, and the pillow felt smooth against her cheek and soon enough she was fast asleep, dreaming of hidden passageways, misshapen unicorns and falling, falling, falling…

When she awoke, Carolina felt like she hadn't slept at all. She stepped out of bed and looked down at her legs. They ached and a large bruise was forming on her thigh where she had fallen on the stairs.

"Where were you last night?" Delia asked suspiciously, stepping out of the bathroom amidst a cloud of steam, one towel wrapped around her body and another wrapped like a turban around her head.

"Fell asleep studying," Carolina lied easily. That could have been true… she had done it enough times. Besides, there was no way in hell she would ever be telling Delia, Abigail or anyone else from her house where she had actually been late last night.

Delia raised her eyebrows, eyeing Carolina's fully clothed form and bruised leg. "Fall down studying too, did you?"

Carolina shrugged. "Don't know where that's from."

"Hm," Delia pursed her lips.

"You done in there?" Carolina questioned, gesturing to the bathroom.

"Go ahead," Delia said, turning away and walking to her bed where she sat down and pulled out a handheld mirror.

Carolina showered quickly, feeling an anxious bubble build in her the more she thought about last night. Would Fred tell anyone? Or worse yet, would McGonagall? She would have to talk to him-persuade him that he shouldn't let it slip to anybody, that if it came back to her mother, then she'd have hell to pay. And what if McGonagall told the Headmaster or worse… Professor Snape? And what if they decided she was too irresponsible to continue on being Head Girl. She was supposed to be catching people like her anyways… what a hypocrite he had made her!

She dressed as fast as she could and nearly ran to the Great Hall for breakfast, intent on pulling Fred aside and giving him a good talking to but, when she arrived, he was nowhere in sight.

In fact, as she studied the hall, there wasn't a speck of red hair at the Gryffindor table… Neither Fred nor his brothers or sister were present.

Carolina sat down, scowling at the large bowl of oatmeal in front of her, before ladling some into her own smaller bowl. It was just like him to sleep in-skive off a meal. He could always get one later in the kitchens anyways.

She ate slowly, hoping he would show up, but he didn't. And then, he wasn't in Defense Against the Dark Arts that morning… nor was he at lunch, and then neither he nor his brother were in Charms in the afternoon and by the end of the day, Carolina started to feel her mind grow frantic.

What if he was avoiding her? Or worse, what if something had happened to him? What if the Headmaster had wanted to see him because he had contracted spattergroit and they needed to quarantine him? What if he had given her spattergroit?

No, she thought as she shook her head. She was being ridiculous.

When he and his siblings didn't show up for dinner either, Carolina had nearly worked herself into a nervous breakdown and was having trouble eating, despite the veritable feast in front of her. There were new pastries and delicacies that the Hogwarts house elves only brought out at Christmastime, but Carolina felt unable to sample any of them, her stomach full of worries.

So, it was with complete determination and just a bit of frantic energy that she set off for McGonagall's office after dinner in search of answers.

Yet when she arrived and knocked for quite a while on the Transfiguration Professor's door to no avail, she felt her eyes build up with tears despite her own volition.

She felt ridiculous, and as if she couldn't even control her own body, as she pushed the palms of her hands into her eyes, trying with all her might to absorb the tears that were threatening to fall.

Perhaps McGonagall would be in the teacher's lounge, she thought, wiping her slightly wet hands on her school robes. Yes, that had to be it.

However, when she knocked on the teacher's lounge, it was not McGonagall who answered the door.

"Yes… Ms. Flint?" Professor Snape asked as his head poked out from the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you… quite alright?" He looked rather disturbed at the sight of Carolina and she realized she must look a terrible mess-eyes bloodshot, tears clouding her vision, hair and robes crinkled.

"Is… is…" Carolina started, "Professor McGonagall in there?" Barely able to get the question out, Carolina immediately felt a fat tear run down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, sniffling.

Professor Snape stared at her, his mouth slightly open, apparently at a loss as to how to speak to a crying, seventeen year old girl. "She is… Is this… pertaining to," he paused, his eyes studying Carolina carefully, "womanly issues?"

"Oh my god!" Carolina said for the second time in the past 24 hours, covering her eyes with her palms yet again, completely mortified at the assumption of her Head of House.

"Because if it is," he continued, "I suggest you see Madam Pomfrey instead, she's much more suited to-"

"No!" Carolina interrupted him, staring intently at the floor. "Sorry, sir, I just, I really need to speak to Professor McGonagall."

Snape continue to scrutinize her, before saying, "Yes, yes, one moment," and disappearing behind the closed door again.

Carolina let out a groan. This was the most embarrassed she had ever felt-last night was nothing compared to the mortification that her Head of House had essentially just asked her if she was on her period… and bloody hell, was that what he thought was going on whenever a female student was crying? He seriously needed to sort out his comprehension of-

"Ms. Flint?" came the strict voice of the Transfiguration Professor, interrupting her train of thought.

"Er, Professor, I was just wondering if," Carolina began, wiping her running nose on her sleeve.

"I imagine you were wondering where Mr. Weasley went," McGonagall said coldly and Carolina nodded perhaps too enthusiastically, because McGonagall sent her a rather judgmental look as she continued. "He went home early for the Christmas holidays, and Ms. Flint, before you return to your common room, I would just like to say that I am exceptionally disappointed in you. I believe that when the Headmaster chose you as Head Girl, he was under the impression that you yourself would adhere to the Hogwarts code of conduct. If this is to happen again, and I severely hope that it won't, I am afraid I will have to report it to your Head of House as well as to Professor Dumbledore."

"I understand, Professor," Carolina said feeling her shoulders droop.

"That being said," McGonagall continued, "Perhaps exercise a bit more discretion next time." The sides of her mouth quirked up. Carolina's eyes widened-at least someone was entertained by her predicament. "Now, I suggest you either head to your common room or to the library-I imagine that you have yet to start the essay I assigned you over the Holidays.

"Yes, ma'am!" Carolina chirped, "thank you!" She turned her back on the teacher's lounge and scampered over to the moving staircases.

McGonagall's line echoed through her mind: "a bit more discretion next time…" Would there even be a next time? She wasn't even sure if she wanted there to be one. Though, as she thought back on the night before, she couldn't help but feel a shiver run up her spine. She supposed that if she didn't want there to be a next time, she wouldn't have worked herself into such a tizzy in his absence.

Discretion meant not snogging in the Gryffindor seventh year boys' dormitory… but they could certainly continue snogging, McGonagall had made that clear. Just, no rule breaking. Okay, that was do-able. There were plenty of places to snog around the school-Felix had ensured that she was aware of those secluded spots.

Carolina smiled to herself, glad that she had finally figured out what she wanted, but then a thought occurred to her: He had gone home for the holidays even though he told her he was staying… Had he lied to her?

Well, there was only one thing to do, she decided, before stopping. Her feet had taken her to the entrance of the library, as if her body had known all along what it wanted to do.

She entered, headed over to her usual table and pulled out a roll of parchment and her quill, dipping it into her inkpot.

" _Dear Fred,"_ she started writing, before pausing. This was going to be difficult… she wanted to know if he had lied to her, and if so, why, and she wanted to do find out without betraying or showing her feelings about him.

She sighed. It was so easy for her to write pages upon pages to the editor of the Daily Prophet but writing to Fred Bloody Weasley… why was this so hard?


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

* * *

December 19, 1995

" _Dear Fred,_

 _I looked for you this morning but McGonagall said you had gone home early for the holidays. I thought you had said you were staying? Hope everything is alright._

 _\- Carolina"_

* * *

December 20, 1995

" _Dear Carolina,"_

 _I hope you don't think I lied. I didn't think I would be going home but we had a bit of a family emergency so I'll be spending the holidays in London. I'm not really sure what to write. You know, I've never actually written a letter to anyone in my life? George would always write back to mum and I'd just sign my name. Anyways, everything's okay now. Hope you're not too bored without me around._

 _-_ _Fred"_

* * *

December 21, 1995

" _Dear Fred,_

 _I am absolutely honored to be the recipient of your first letter. As you know, I'm quite experienced in the matter. A family emergency? I'm glad you're okay. To be honest, when you didn't show up at breakfast my mind started going through a list of the worst possibilities. I may or may not have cried in front of a professor. It was embarrassing to say the least. I will be completely out of my mind with boredom in your absence! Adrian's on holiday too. Actually the only Slytherins who have stuck around are a pair of bloody fourth years. I truly don't know what I'm to do._

 _Write back quickly and save me from my impending boredom._

 _-_ _Carolina"_

* * *

December 22, 1995

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _Don't get too smug that you're taking my letter-writing-virginity. And you better not have written about Pucey in a letter to me! If you do that again, I'm afraid I'll have to return to my original letter-less ways. Actually, I'll probably write back anyway, but just don't write about him. He's a twat. I can think of a few things you could do to entertain yourself, actually. You could break into the Gryffindor common room since you know the password now and put itching powder (that you might find in a bag beneath the left-most cushion of the couch) on the bed nearest the window in the fifth year boys' dorm. Just an option if you are looking for ways to entertain yourself. Then, if you got tired you could always take a nap in my bed._

 _-_ _Fred_

 _P.S. Which professor?"_

* * *

December 23, 1995

" _Dear Fred,_

 _Or should I say, letter-virgin? Am I correct in assuming that the bed nearest the window belongs to your little brother? As Head Girl, I can't in good conscious prank Ron for you, but I will say that I'm also not going to confiscate any itching powder that may or may not be under said couch seat. And by the time you receive this letter I will probably have taken you up on your second suggestion. Your bed is quite comfy. As long as none of your roommates stayed over the holidays. I'll have to be rather sneaky though. It would be the end of my career as Head Girl if McGonagall caught me again. And then there'd be no one left to take away house points from you and your brother when you feed candies to unsuspecting first years. Can't have that._

 _-_ _Carolina_

 _P.S. You may have heard rumors last year that I was going to the Yule Ball with him."_

* * *

December 24, 1995

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _I know that there were other words that you wrote in the last letter but the only thing that I actually read was that you're in my bed._

 _-_ _Fred_

 _P.S. Snape? Snape saw you crying? Fill me in-I need a laugh. Mum's been downright miserable about Percy being his normal pratty self."_

* * *

December 25, 1995

" _Dear Fred,_

 _Now, as I'm writing this, I actually am in your bed. It was so comfy for a nap that I just kipped down to the library and brought a book back up and I intend to spend the night here. Though I forgot my pajamas so I suppose I'll have to do without._

 _I'm sorry to hear about Percy. What's he doing? I worked with him this summer. Acted as if he didn't even know who I was, despite knowing that I had been a prefect. Rather rude, in my opinion. You're going to make fun of me for this but I actually followed your mum in a bookstore once. At least, I'm 95% sure it was your mum. I promise I'm not actually that creepy._

 _Anyways, I'm not sure how I feel about my humiliation in front of my Head of House giving you a laugh. If you must know, I was stalking McGonagall outside of the staff room so that I could find out what happened to you and growing more and more ridiculous by the second and he walked out just as I started crying._

 _-_ _Carolina_

 _P.S. Happy Christmas."_

* * *

December 26, 1995

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _I do believe you just gave me the best Christmas gift I've ever gotten._

 _Wish I was there with you._

 _-_ _Fred"_

* * *

December 27, 1995

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _Sorry that was such a short letter. And rather crude. Hope your Christmas isn't too lonely. But you'd probably rather be with one of the Hogwarts House Elves than with Marcus. Percy refused to come home for the holiday, even though dad's in the hospital. Next time I see him I'm gonna give him a good hexing. And for ignoring you. Who does he think he is? Bloody Merlin himself? Actually, I'm surprised he and your brother didn't get on like a pack of kneazles._

 _So you followed my mum into a bookstore? I'm glad you're at least honest with yourself about being a stalker. What do they say? The first step is accepting you have a problem?_

 _-_ _Fred"_

* * *

December 28, 1995

" _Dear Fred,_

 _I will have you know that I do not have a problem! And just for that, I won't be sleeping in your bed again any time soon. Besides, I didn't follow her into the store, I was in there too and just… well, I thought she was you because of her hair and yours was quite long that year and so I followed her down an aisle._

 _Yeah, maybe in a different lifetime Percy and Marcus would be best friends. Both think they're better than everyone around them. That being said, they'd probably just continue to hate each other_ _ **because**_ _they think they're better than everyone around them._

 _Christmas was okay. My mother sent me a new dress. Marcus sent me a pair of quidditch gloves. Don't know what he expects me to do with them. You can have them if you want. Though they might be his old ones. They don't smell particularly great._

 _You know, the best Christmas gift I've ever gotten was from you. Two years ago. Do you remember? Also, I'm sorry, I didn't think to get you anything. In fact, I didn't think that I'd be writing you. I didn't think any of this would have happened._

 _-_ _Carolina"_

* * *

December 29, 1995

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _It's okay, I didn't get you anything either. Been a bit preoccupied. Dad just came home from St. Mungo's and mum's had us cleaning every day. George and I hardly get a word to ourselves, let alone enough time to work on our products. I think she has it out for us._

 _And thank you, but I'll have to decline Marcus's smelly old gloves._ _ **So**_ _sweet of you to offer. How thoughtful. Won't be playing much quidditch tough anymore, anyways._

 _I am pretty great at giving gifts normally, huh?_

 _-_ _Fred_

 _P.S. Stalk anyone recently, stalker?_

 _P.P.S. I knew it would."_

* * *

December 30, 1995

" _Dear Fred,_

 _Don't be so full of yourself, it's unbecoming. I have half a mind to stop this correspondence all together._

 _Anyways, I've already told you that she doesn't have legal jurisdiction to ban you for life. She is an undersecretary for the minister, and a sporting ban must come from the department of sports and games at the ministry. I highly doubt Bagman would ban you._

 _Just wait until the school year is over and then you can fly to your heart's desire._

 _-_ _Carolina_

 _P.S. I'm ignoring your post scripts, you prat."_

* * *

December 31, 1995

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _You're certainly not one to tell someone else not to be full of themselves. I specifically remember an incident in third year when you tried to correct Binns on the date of some giant war._

 _Besides, I'd like to see you try not to write to me. Twelve days of letters. Your owl's looking a bit worse for wear._

 _Mum's making a big to-do about New Year's. Hosting a bunch of people over for dinner. I've never peeled so many potatoes in my life._

 _What are you doing? I suppose there isn't much to do at school. Any resolutions or wishes?_

 _-_ _Fred"_

* * *

January 1, 1996

" _Dear Fred,_

 _First of all, I was right wasn't I? It isn't being full of yourself if you actually know the answers._

 _I suppose it's a bit late to convince you of my ambivalence, isn't it..._

 _There's hardly anyone here actually. I think most of the school decided to go home because they didn't for last year's Christmas. It is rather lonely, but better than being in attendance at my parent's normal New Year's cocktail party. Marcus would probably bring his teammates who are just a basket full of arse-holes in my opinion. So, despite the lack of anyone to talk, I think I'm quite satisfied here. I finally finished all of our coursework for the break today actually. And have read ahead in a few of the textbooks and now I'm working on a Spring semester study schedule for N.E.W.T.s. I can give you a copy, if you'd like._

 _You know, I don't normally do resolutions. Have never found them necessary. I'm generally rather talented at accomplishing things without silly resolutions._

 _Do you have any?_

 _Happy New Year!_

 _-_ _Carolina"_

* * *

January 2, 1996

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _Yeah, you're definitely not full of yourself… just 'generally rather talented at accomplishing things,' sure… that makes sense._

 _Basket of arse-holes is a good one! Haven't heard that used before. I think I prefer basket of bastards, though. Rolls off the tongue. Alliteration, am I right?_

 _Also, I thought my potato-peeling New Year's was dull but planning a study schedule? You win._

 _I suppose I have one resolution, though it's pretty unachievable while I'm home. I guess I'll just have to wait to get started on it when I'm back at Hogwarts._

 _-_ _Fred"_

* * *

January 3, 1996

" _Dear Fred,_

 _Pray tell, what could be your resolution? I simply have to know._

 _I'm going to ignore you calling me full of myself, because if I am, then so are you!_

 _I just made a face and stuck my tongue out to an empty library while writing that last sentence. I think I'm going barmy in your absence. Haven't talked to anyone in the past 24 hours. Maybe I should have asked for a pet cat for Christmas from my parents…_

 _I'm also going to ignore you calling me dull. I merely like to be well prepared before the chaos of the semester begins. You could take a page out of my book, you know._

 _Also, I went and ate in the kitchens last night. I think I might miss you._

 _-_ _Carolina"_

* * *

January 4, 1996

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _My resolution involves repeating what we did on the night I left a few more times this year. Might need your help though…_

 _I miss you too. But I'll be back on Sunday, and see you then._

 _-_ _Fred"_

* * *

January 5, 1996

" _Dear Fred,_

 _You're right, that certainly is a resolution you cannot get started on while you're away from Hogwarts. At least, you'd better not! If you did, I'd hex your eyebrows off your face._

 _By the way, I don't know if you knew this… actually, I don't know how you would know since I've never told you, but my birthday is tomorrow. Rather strange to be celebrating it alone here._

 _-_ _Carolina"_

* * *

" _Dear Carolina,_

 _First of all, I'd like to hang on to my eyebrows, thank you very much!_

 _And second of all… WHY DIDN'T YOU BLOODY TELL ME SOONER? You're really making me look like a prat. There's a rather badly wrapped present for you with this letter (that you've probably already seen, seeing as it's tied to the other leg of your owl) and before you open it, just let me say that as you know, I'm normally the greatest gift-giver of all time but I had about an hour to run out into muggle London and find something for you so that it could get to you by tomorrow. So, it might not be my best work. But I had to make up for the lack of Christmas gift, right?_

 _I hope you like it._

 _Happy Birthday!_

 _-_ _Fred"_

* * *

January 6, 1996

" _Dear Fred,_

 _I suppose you can keep your eyebrows. They do look quite nice on your face, after all._

 _I don't know what I was expecting after reading your letter but I was definitely pleasantly surprised. I'm not sure it's as good as the chocolate frog card, but you can keep your title as the Greatest Gift-Giver._

 _You found this in muggle London? And then did you charm it? What spell did you use? It's so lifelike._

 _Thank you so much, I really love it. Best birthday gift I got._

 _Excited to see you on Sunday._

 _-_ _Carolina"_

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hey all! Tried something a little bit new for this chapter. I don't plan on doing it again, but it was a fun way for me to mix up the writing style for the story. Let me know what you think! I plan on updating soon because this was... barely a chapter haha!_


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-one**

* * *

Carolina watched as Fred's birthday gift to her sniffed her soup bowl; he had gotten her a little china cat that he had-through one spell or another-animated to life. It was small, but thoughtful, seeing as she had mentioned in one of her letters that perhaps she should have asked for pet a cat.

Once again, she was rather impressed with the neat bit of magic he had displayed. It was a gift similar to the chocolate frog card-rather useless, but sweet all the same.

She smiled down at it as the cat hesitantly poked its face over the rim of the bowl, standing on its two hind legs.

In the bowl floated a few forgotten clumps of vegetables and noodles for Carolina was finding it difficult to eat that day. It was Sunday, and the students on holiday were due back that afternoon.

Watching her cat as it gave up its investigation of the bowl and walked over to a goblet of pumpkin juice, Carolina couldn't help but wish she had put off at least one of her homework assignments over the break; at least then she'd have something to think about today besides Fred's imminent return.

She had tried to study ahead in the Ancient Runes textbook that morning but found herself utterly distracted and that nothing was sticking in her head.

She carefully put her hand out on the table and little cat tread over, before deftly jumping up her fingers and settling in her palm. She gently plopped the figurine into the outer pocket of her cloak and stood up. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she couldn't stand to sit in the Great Hall a moment longer.

Perhaps, she thought as she exited the hall and walked into the foyer, she could pass time in the courtyard; then she'd be able to see the students as they trickled up the path from Hogsmeade Station once the train got in. Yes, she decided, that was where she'd go.

Carolina stepped out of the tall, looming entryway and traced a path across the frozen ground to the edge of the courtyard, sat down on a bench overlooking the grounds and pulled out a book from her bag, intent on reading.

She opened it to where she left off.

" _The seventeenth century brought about a slew of interspecies conflicts, despite the well-intentioned regulations laid down by the European Confederacy of Wizards, that fostered a sense of fear amongst wizards and witches alike that without a formal army, Goblin and Giant rebellions would…"_

Carolina looked up and out across the landscape. They weren't here yet. She looked back down at her book.

" _...drastically change the favorable power dynamics in Great Britain. However, perhaps of more importance than this was the ever growing threat of muggle intervention and…"_

It was quite cold, she thought to herself. There wasn't any real snow on the ground, but the grass on the lawn looked dead and icy; the lake was almost completely frozen, and the sky was completely overcast. She peaked out again at the road leading up to the castle. Nobody.

She looked back down at her book.

" _...knowledge of wizarding communities. After a particularly gruesome land-seizement from…"_

She didn't need to read this. In fact, she didn't know why she had checked the book out from the library in the first place. She knew all of this already, she thought, sitting straight up again and looking towards the gate. They had covered the factors leading to the formation of the Ministry of Magic in their second year.

She closed her book and shivered. It was quite cold, maybe if she moved around she'd feel warmer, she thought to herself. So, she stood up, stretched her arms above her head and began to pace.

After completing three rounds around the courtyard, she was feeling much warmer but a thought struck her as she peered up at the old clock overhead. She must look completely mental to anybody watching, pacing in circles like that. She stopped midstep. Maybe she was completely mental, waiting out in the cold so she could see when the students came back…

If anything, she thought to herself, she might appear a little desperate, not to mention rather stir-crazy.

She shook her head. Yes, she definitely should go wait inside and find some way to occupy herself. They probably weren't due back until just before dinner anyways. So Carolina grabbed her book bag and retraced her steps.

She paused upon entering the foyer, at a loss as to where to go. She didn't particularly want to return to the Slytherin common room-it was rather depressing in the winter without as much light shining in from the lake-and she certainly didn't feel as if her brain held enough of an attention span today to sit for hours in the library. Indeed, she hadn't even been able to get through one paragraph without checking for the students' arrival multiple times.

After a few rounds about the castle in a futile attempt to simultaneously pass the time and take her mind off of Fred's return, Carolina could think of nothing else to do other than return to the courtyard and try to read again.

Just as she was about to push the heavy doors open again, they swung open of their own accord.

"Hi," Carolina said breathlessly.

There Fred was, with his siblings and Hermione Granger and Harry Potter in tow. In his arms was her owl in a rather beaten up, rusted cage.

"Were you waiting for me?" Fred smirked, eying her rosy cheeks.

"No," Carolina responded a little too quickly, reprimanding herself in her head; that was hardly convincing.

Fred raised his eyebrows, before turning to look at the gray owl by his side. "She passed out after your last letter-bit too much flying from here to London and back so often-so, I thought she could do with a rest," he said as if able to read Carolina's thoughts.

"Oy, move in, Fred! It's starting to snow!" Ron called from behind his brother and Fred stepped in, moving aside for their others to pass.

Carolina let a smile perk her lips. So he hadn't been ignoring her (as her illogical, anxiety-fueled mind would have her believe); her owl had merely exhausted herself flying back and forth every day. That made much more sense. "I'm sorry, Circe," she said, taking the cage from Fred's hand. "I won't make you do that again."

The owl gave an indignant hoot in response.

"I suppose I should take her to the owlery," Carolina continued.

"I'll go with you," Fred offered.

"What about your stuff?" Carolina asked, eyeing his trunk.

"George can manage it, right George?" Fred asked his brother innocently.

"Sure," George replied sarcastically, though a smile was threatening to crack his straight face, "I'm merely here to serve."

"Great!" Fred said enthusiastically, as he turned on his heel, beckoning Carolina along the wooden bridge that led up to the owlery. "So," he started, once the two were far enough away from the others, "if you weren't waiting for me, what were you doing?"

"Just going out for a walk," Carolina replied, unable to meet his eyes and instead staring out at the snow-capped forbidden forest.

"In the snow?" Fred asked incredulously.

"Yup," Carolina answered, before sneaking a peak at him. He was grinning down at her and she supposed he didn't believe her for one second, though he didn't push the issue for which she was glad.

"How'd you get back?" Carolina asked eventually. "Nobody else-er, apart from you all-have arrived yet."

"Knight Bus," Fred said simply

"Knight Bus?" Carolina questioned, feeling a little awkward at their stilted conversation.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Fred replied as they started up the owlery steps. "I barely avoided getting an old woman's sick on me," he cringed, as if remembering something he'd rather forget, causing Carolina to chuckle. "I don't think Circe enjoyed it much either," Fred said, eying Carolina's bird as they stepped through the owlery door.

"Okay, you silly bird, get some rest," Carolina said, opening the cage and watching as her owl hopped out and onto one of the staggered wooden poles. Circe let out a soft cooing noise, before jumping up and flapping her wings to bring her far up into the rafters.

"I suppose we-oh!" Carolina started, turning back to Fred, but before she could finish her sentence, his lips were on hers and his hands were snaking through her hair to hold neck and back.

She felt her eyelids drift closed and she brought her cold hands up to clutch his shoulders.

Far too soon for her liking, Fred pulled away. "Hi," he said quietly, breathing out a puff of condensation as he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Hey," she replied back, breathing in his smell. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring at her rather intensely.

"That's all I've wanted to do for the past two weeks," Fred said, tucking a strand of hair behind Carolina's ear.

"I may have been going out to the courtyard to see if I could spot the students coming back," Carolina said, grinning and feeling like if he was being candid with her, she might as well return the favor.

"Thought so," Fred said, grinning back at her.

She grinned back, all of the anxiety that had been pumping through her system-whether he'd still like her, what he'd do when they saw each other, how she was supposed to act, what they were doing at all-evaporated almost instantaneously and was replaced by a rather muddled, dampened sensation in her brain. It wasn't as if she didn't want to know the answers to all her questions, she just couldn't seem to formulate the questions anymore.

Carolina pressed her body closer to his and tilted her head up, smiling at him. "I suppose I've thought about doing that too…" she whispered.

Fred leaned in again, kissing her more gently this time only to be interrupted by a loud gurgling sound.

"Was that you?" He asked, pulling away.

Carolina looked down at her stomach, her cheeks blushing. "Sorry, I didn't eat much breakfast today… or lunch for that matter."

"Well, then let's get you some food!" Fred said cheerfully, stepping back from her and taking her hand in his.

They walked, hand in hand, back down the frozen owlery steps, across the suspension bridge, and through the courtyard and Carolina grew more and more apprehensive with each step. Why wasn't he saying anything? Should she say something? She peaked a look at Fred as they approached the foyer. He looked utterly unperturbed by their silence.

Fred looked down at his watch. "Just in time for the feast, no wonder you're hungry!"

Suddenly, a thought came to Carolina. She was about to walk into the Great Hall, hand in hand with Fred Weasley… undoubtedly, the rest of the school would have returned by now if it was almost time for the feast. She could already hear Delia's shrill accusations and Miles's taunts, and could envision the looks of her housemates when they saw. This wasn't something she was ready to reveal yet, she decided.

"Fred," she said, stopping and pulling him to a halt with her. "Could we… could we go to the kitchens?"

Fred gave her a curious look, so she quickly added on, blushing for good measure, "I just, I just want to be with you."

Now, it was Fred's turn to blush, and he quickly looked away. Carolina took this chance to covertly peer around to see if any other students were out and would see them.

"Yeah, sure," he responded and they started walking again. Carolina wasn't sure whether the silence was more or less uncomfortable than before, but she was glad she had avoided near-catastrophe.

"You want to do the honors?" Fred asked as they approached the entry to the kitchens, gesturing at the painting of the fruit bowl.

"Sure," Carolina replied, reaching out a hand and tickling the bottom part of the pear.

It let out a chirping giggle, and turned into a doorknob. Carolina grasped it and pulled it open, following Fred as he stepped inside.

The house elves were running around rather frantically, in the final moments of preparing the feast.

"Do you think it's alright that we're here? We're not getting in their way?" Carolina queried apprehensively.

Fred gave her hand a small squeeze, "They're fine. Oy! You lot mind if we-"

"Hello Mr. Weasley! Ms. Flint!" One of the house elves came running up to them, it's big batty ears bouncing along with each step. "Please, what can we get you? Shepherd's pie? Pork loins? Toad in a hole? Welsh rarebit? Lancaster hotpot?"

"Er, some shepherd's pie, if you will," Carolina requested.

"Same for me, but with chips too. And two butterbeers."

The elf nodded and scampered back towards the ovens as Carolina and Fred sat down.

"So, have a good holiday?" Fred said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

"Pretty rubbish," Carolina responded. "Er, McGonagall said you went home for a family emergency… is… what happened?"

Fred eyed her seriously, the smirk disappearing off his face.

"If I tell you, you can't tell anyone else."

Carolina nodded, eager for him to continue.

"My dad, well, he was attacked and had to go to St. Mungo's, so we spent the break in London to be close to the hospital,"

"Attacked? That's awful… By whom?" Carolina asked, her eyes growing wide.

Fred paused, apparently deciding whether to continue on. After a moment, he opened his mouth. "I can't tell you why, but he was bitten by You-Know-Who's snake."

Carolina felt her jaw drop open. She tried to think of something to say but couldn't pick out an appropriate response from all of the questions that were flashing through her brain. Why had he been attacked? And where? And how had You-Know-Who gotten to him? And he had a snake? Why did he have a snake? And what was Mr. Weasley doing around them? And was You-Know-Who there? Was he in England? Was he really… back?

Fred, apparently taking her silence as a sign to continue started speaking again. "He's fine now. Mind you, the wounds took almost two weeks to close up and dad didn't help anything by trying a few muggle fixes first because the snake's venom apparently was cursed with some pretty dark magic but the healers-"

"Fred," Carolina interrupted him, "I'm so sorry. I wish you had written this to me."

Fred shrugged. "Our mail was being searched. Besides, I liked our letters. Gave me something to think about besides dad."

Carolina smiled shyly. "They gave me something to think about in general. One more day and I would have ended up in St. Mungo's too… but on the ward for-"

"Here we are!" interrupted the same house elf, carrying a whole shepherd's pie in one hand and two butterbeers, a large plate of chips, and various other sides in the other. "Enjoy!" he squeaked, running back off to the kitchens.

"Merlin, that smells good," Carolina muttered as her stomach growled aggressively again.

Fred laughed. "It's like you haven't been fed in years!"

"Oh, this is so good," Carolina responded through mouthfuls of pie, before blushing. That probably wasn't very ladylike, though she supposed Fred Weasley probably wasn't one to care whether she acted ladylike or not.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _They're reunited! Hope you all liked the chapter and if you're American, hope you all have a great Thanksgiving tomorrow!_


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-two**

* * *

January seemed to slip Carolina by in a steady stream of homework and tests, snowstorms, prefect rounds, and late night D.A. meetings that led to late night kitchen-runs for dessert with Fred and soon enough, February was upon them.

In fact, much to Carolina's chagrin, those late nights were practically the only time she was able to see him in the past month or so, partially due to the increase in coursework that the professors all deemed necessary for N.E.W.T. level students and partially due to Carolina's anxiety over them being seen together.

The only other contact with each other they had besides their romps through the corridors were in the classes in which they dared to sit next to each other. Fred only had three of the same classes as Carolina seeing as he had only taken three O.W.L.s (a fact that simultaneously terrified and intrigued Carolina), Transfiguration, Charms and of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts which was where Carolina found herself sitting now.

She wasn't in her normal, front-and-center spot, but instead in the last row, having found that if she entered class, just before the bell, she would be forced to sit wherever the remaining chairs were. Neither Adrian nor Miles were none the wiser and when she would complain at mealtimes about being forced to sit next to a Weasley twin, their only response was a despondent "you snooze, you lose."

While Carolina preferred to sit with Adrian during Charms, as it was one of her classes that she struggled more with (and was determined to raise her grade form an E to an O), she gladly welcomed the distraction of Fred Weasley during the monotonous Defense classes. They were still reading from that ludicrous textbook that Umbridge had assigned at the beginning of the year, having progressed now to chapter 38. And since Carolina had finished the book within the first week of classes and had given up rather quickly on asking for more challenging material from their horrible professor, she was quite content to watch Fred doodle in his textbook, sometimes joining him.

Today however, was another story. Umbridge had decided to lecture the class on the classification of "part-human beasts" (in her words) and the dangers they brought to a civilized wizarding society, a lecture which Carolina found somehow even more tedious than their normal textbook-sessions. However, old habits die hard and Carolina found herself dutifully taking notes for, in her mind, that was what one did during a lecture.

" _Werewolf Protection Act of 1962…"_ Carolina copied down into her notebook when she suddenly felt something touch her leg, causing her to jump slightly in her seat. She looked down. Beneath her desk, Fred's hand was resting just above her knee cap, his fingers drawing little circles on her skin.

Carolina gulped, unsure of what to do. Should she say something? She covertly looked around. Could anyone see that his hand was on her leg? All of her housemates were on the other side of classroom, and further towards the front. They couldn't see. The only students who might have a view under her desk would be George and Lee at the desk over, and she supposed they already knew that she and Fred were… well, she wasn't sure what they were.

Fred moved his hand slightly higher up on her thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze as Carolina sucked in her breath. Was he trying to distract her? Why was he doing this? She turned her head questioningly to look at him but he wasn't looking at her, just absently drawing a large toad with a bow on its head (that looked strikingly like Professor Umbridge) in the margin of his textbook.

Carolina felt his hand move up even higher, so it was just beneath the hem of her skirt and she let out a small cough in surprise. Fred turned towards her, an eyebrow raised and his charming smirk pushing up the corners of his mouth. Carolina gave him a dirty look, which only turned the smirk into a full on grin.

Then, a few things happened at the very same time:

Fred pushed his hand even further up Carolina's leg-too close for comfort, in her opinion-so that it was now completely under her plaid skirt.

In response, Carolina slammed her leg upwards into the underside of the table, jamming Fred's hand into the desk in the process.

"Bloody hell!" Fred gasped, louder than he intended, pulling his hand out and examining his bruised knuckles.

"Mr. Weasley! Language!" Umbridge nearly screeched across her classroom, not one to enjoy being interrupted.

"Sorry, Professor," Fred said, glaring at Carolina.

"20 points from Gryffindor," Umbridge said primly. "I should think that as seventh years you would know how to use appropriate language, and when to hold your tongue, however-"

"Professor," interrupted Lee Jordan, "isn't discussing language out of your jurisdiction? I mean, according to Educational Decree number 25, teachers aren't allowed to discuss anything besides the topics for their class!"

"I'll have you know that-"

"And taking points away," cut in George rather boldly, "that isn't something covered in 'Defensive Magical Theory,' is it? I might have to let the headmaster know that you're flouting the new decree, Professor."

"Insubordination! Detention you two! Saturday Morning!" Umbridge raged, her face bright red and her little eyebrows scrunched up in anger.

"Right, see that's what exactly I'm talking about-I don't see what detention has to do with defense against the dark arts-"

George was cut off as the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

Umbridge was fuming and it seemed that even the Slytherins didn't want to be anywhere near her as the students jammed their way out of the door as quickly as they could.

Once out in the hallway and out of ear shot from her housemates, Carolina rounded on Fred.

"You realize all of that was your fault, right?"

"It's not like I slammed my own hand into the desk-"

"We were in class! You were... you were...!" Carolina stuttered, blushing.

"It's okay, I get it. Won't happen again!" Fred replied, examining his knuckles.

Carolina paused. "I didn't mean to do it so hard… are you alright?"

Fred shook his hand. "Nothing that a trip to Hogsmeade couldn't fix."

"What?" Carolina asked, confused.

"Hogsmeade. Saturday? You want to go?"

"Oh, um, is that Valentine's Day?" Carolina mumbled. She wasn't sure if Hogsmeade was a good idea. They could be seen by someone in Hogsmeade.

"I do believe you owe me," Fred said, flexing his hand. "So I'll see you Saturday? Say 10?"

"Er, sure," Carolina replied. At least it was early in the day… the rest of the students probably wouldn't head over to the small wizarding village until after lunch.

"Great!" Fred said, grinning at her before darting off down the corridor. "Oy! George! Lee! Wait up!"

Carolina turned around and let out a breath, set on heading to History of Magic.

"I hope you were taking points away from him for bothering you in class," Adrian said, catching up to her.

Oh no, Carolina thought, had Adrian seen Fred's hand slip under her skirt?

"Gryffindors have no self control-swearing in the middle of a lecture, I mean-"

"Yeah," Carolina breathed out a sigh of relief as the pair started walking to class. "Yeah, bloody annoying."

"So what are we doing during Hogsmeade? Miles has a date so we could actually go into the Three Broomsticks this time!" Adrian said jovially.

"Oh… I actually, I think I already have plans, Ades…"

"Plans?" Adrian asked. "With whom?"

Carolina opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. On one hand, Adrian was her best friend. She shouldn't keep secrets from him, and surely he would be understanding… On the other hand, well… he wasn't particularly fond of any of the Weasleys.

"Do you have a date?" Adrian raised his eyebrows as Carolina squirmed uncomfortably.

"I… yes?" she squeaked, unable to decide whether to lie or not.

"Seriously? Miles wouldn't tell me who he was going with-surely, surely you two aren't going together!?"

"What? Miles? No. Ew," Carolina shook her head.

"Then who?" Adrian pestered, stopping just in front of the Transfiguration classroom as a swarm of fifth years were exiting it.

"Actually, Ades, if I tell you, you have to promise not to spread it around…"

"Yeah, yeah, I promise, now who are you going with? Is it Davies? I always thought he was a bit scared of you but maybe that's his thing…"

"No, it's Fred," Carolina whispered.

Adrian's jaw fell open in shock, his eyes wide as saucers and it took him a few moments to respond.

"Are you mental?"

"No, he and I-"

"He's a bloody Gryffindor, and a Weasley at that! He used to charm a chicken to follow you around the school!"

"He's not like that anymore!"

"He bloody well is! He hexed Graham just yesterday!"

"Well, I'm sure Graham wasn't entirely innocent in the matter."

Adrian stopped walking. "I can't believe you. In fact, I don't even know who you are anymore, Carolina. And you know what, I get it." He continued. "I've been busy with quidditch and I'm sorry about that but-"

"This isn't about you, Ades, he and I… we've been friends for a bit and-"

"Do you hear yourself?"

"Adrian, I told you because I thought I could trust you. I thought you'd be happy for me!"

"Happy for you? He's a bloody bully; you used to say so yourself. And you're a bloody hypocrite!"

Carolina felt her eyes well up with tears.

"Please, could you not… could you not tell anybody?" she said, trying to hold back the droplets threatening to fall down her cheeks.

"Fine. But I don't want to hear about it when he ultimately proves how much of an arse he is," he said, walking away. Carolina wiped at her eyes, feeling miserable. She had been so excited; why couldn't Adrian just be happy for her?

"Carolina, do you have a mo-are you okay?" Hermione Granger asked, having approached her from behind.

"Er, yeah," Carolina said after a big sniff. "It's nothing." She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes and squinted, removed them and blinked a few times, before clearing her throat and looking down at the fifth year.

"Right. Would you be able to come to the three broomsticks for lunch tomorrow?"

"What?"

"It won't be long, just ten, fifteen minutes or so."

"Actually, I was-er, I think I have a date tomorrow…" Carolina trailed off. Was it a date? He hadn't exactly used those precise words…

"Please? I think I may have found a way to get your 'concerned student' letters published in a newspaper."

"Really?" Carolina said, all thoughts of both Adrian and Fred evaporating instantaneously.

"Yeah, just, if you could bring copies of them all… that would be great."

"Definitely!" Carolina said, cheering up immediately. Published! Her writing! In a newspaper! She couldn't believe her luck. "Say, noon?"

"Bit earlier? 11:30?"

"Yeah, that's fine. See you then!" Carolina said, before scampering off. She didn't want to be late for History of Magic, though Professor Binns probably wouldn't even notice if she did come in late. In fact, he probably wouldn't even notice if a rhinoceros came in late, so set he was on reading his lecture.

And Carolina herself felt rather set on something as well. If she were to be published in a periodical… she had better get started on her next letter addressing the newest educational decree. George and Lee had been right to point out its obvious flaws. Banning teachers from discussing matters apart from what was on their syllabi was absolutely ludicrous, not to mention a hindrance to their students' education…

Carolina was glad when the final bell of the day tolled and she was able to hurry off to the library and begin writing.

* * *

Carolina awoke Saturday morning with excitement bubbling in her belly. Even the prospect of being ridiculed by her her housemates couldn't diminish her spirit as she quickly compiled all of the letters to the editor she had written that year, carefully rolling them up and placing them in her book bag.

Initially, she had been slightly nervous that since it was Valentine's Day, she would be expected to do something… romantic… with candles or chocolates but had decidedly convinced herself that Fred wasn't one to get bothered over all that nonsense and that worrying over it all was useless anyways.

So, with a clear mind, she pulled on her warmest wool skirt over her tights and a green, cable knit sweater over her button down shirt, cast a repellent charm on her mary-janes so that they wouldn't be affected by the snow on the ground, and headed cheerfully down to breakfast.

As she sat down to her oatmeal, she glanced across the hall towards the Gryffindor table. There he was, sitting with his brothers and a few other members of the Gryffindor quidditch team. The girl next to him, Alicia Spinnet (Carolina recognized her from the D.A. meetings) let out a roaring laugh, probably at something Fred said and Carolina felt her stomach twinge uncomfortably. Just then, Fred caught her eye and winked and Carolina quickly averted her eyes back to her breakfast, spooning some into her mouth and blushing.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade, Carolina?" Abigail's voice interrupted her thoughts and she picked her head up again and looked at the girls who had just sat down across from her.

"Yep," Carolina said before taking a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"With anybody?" Delia shot at her.

"Nope, just going to Tomes and Scrolls," Carolina replied. She really didn't feel an ounce of regret lying to Delia and Abigail.

"How dull!" Abigail giggled. "You know, McGonagall gave Graham detention so I'm going with Delia this weekend-you could come if you want!"

Delia shot Abigail an incredulous look, obviously not on the same page as her ditzy roommate.

"Thanks, Abigail, but I really wanted to get started on the Potions essay, so maybe next time," Carolina responded, looking pointedly at Delia.

"Suit yourself!" Abigail yawned, before turning to Delia. "Did you hear that Chang is going with Potter?"

"I thought she had better taste," Delia responded, "though I suppose not seeing as she went to the ball with Diggory, probably just wants a bit of fame…"

Carolina shot them an annoyed look. Diggory had died, for Merlin's sake. They could be a little more respectful.

"I'll see you ladies later," Carolina said, finishing her breakfast before taking one last gulp of pumpkin juice and standing up. It was just after quarter to 10 and Carolina figured she'd rather wait outside in the cold than listen to her roommates gossip crudely about Cedric.

Once out of the castle, Carolina let out a breath and watched as the condensation floated through the air, before disappearing. She looked down at her feet and marveled at her own spellwork-despite the five inches or so of snow on the ground, her feet were completely warm and dry. The rest of her however, well, that wasn't so much the case. It was quite cold at nearly 10 in the morning, and Carolina wrapped her cloak tightly around her, wishing she had brought her hat and scarf.

"Bit apprehensive to get going, are we? It's not even 10 yet."

Carolina jumped slightly as Fred's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Had to get away from Delia," Carolina shrugged.

"Well, that's a reason I can understand," Fred grinned, before adding, "Shall we?" He offered her his hand.

Carolina smiled up at him and took it, his palm instantly warming hers. She shoved her other hand into the pocket of her cloak in an attempt to retain some body heat and they started to walk.

"Fred, just so you know, I kind of agreed to meet Hermione for 20 minutes or so around lunch so I'll have to-"

"You're ditching me for a fifth year bookworm? Bit lame." Fred raised an eyebrow, though Carolina could see that he wasn't too terribly miffed.

"As someone who was formerly a fifth year bookworm, I resent that!"

"Well, what for then?"

"Actually," Carolina started as she gestured to her book bag, "I'm bringing her copies of the letters; she said she knew someone who would get them published in the paper!"

"The paper? Trying to put all of wizarding Britain to sleep, are you?"

"Okay, that's the second time you've offended me today!"

"Ah, you know I'm only kidding. Besides, when have you ever needed anyone to tell you your writing's good?"

"Do you really think they're that boring?" Carolina asked worriedly… She didn't want her papers to be rejected on account of monotony. Politics was understandable but, she rather prided herself in her writing.

"Nah, listen, if ' _Hogwarts, A History'_ can get published, then so can you!" Fred said, pulling her closer and wrapping his arm over her shoulders rather smoothly.

"Bathilda Bagshot is a bloody Genius! That book is incredible-nuanced and detailed, yet still comprehensive-"

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that front, but what I'm saying is that you have nothing to worry about. You're quite smart too-maybe not a 'bloody genius,' but in a few years you could be, I reckon," Fred grinned, winking at her.

Carolina felt herself swell at his words and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, dragging him to a stop before leaning upwards on her toes and kissing him.

"You're quite predictable, you know," Fred said as Carolina pulled away, though his cheeks were rosier than she'd ever seen them.

"I don't even care," Carolina said, leaning into him again.

After a few minutes of snogging in the snow, Carolina pulled away, noticing other students beginning to trickle out of the castle and up the path towards them.

"Shall we head into town?" Carolina suggested, taking his hand again.

"Or we could go to the common room and take advantage of it while everyone's out in Hogsmeade," Fred responded, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Now, don't be a berk, I might just ditch you for a fifth year bookworm," Carolina responded, pretending to be upset.

"You wouldn't dare!" Fred's face morphed into one of such emphatic shock that Carolina couldn't help but laugh.

"Try me," she winked back, between laughs.

As they approached the village, passing through the pine trees that lined the small path, Carolina couldn't help but marvel at how easy it was to talk with him, and how the last time she had walked this path with a date, the dialogue had felt so forced. With Fred, it was completely different-she wasn't even aware what they were talking about half the time, just that she had never laughed so much in her life. In fact, as they exited Honeyduke's, Carolina's cheeks ached from the smile that hadn't left her face in the last 30 minutes.

"You know, there's a secret passage out of the castle and into the cellar here," Fred mentioned.

"Really?" Carolina asked interestedly.

"Yep, found it first year," Fred bragged.

"Where's the entrance?"

"Oh, I can't tell you all of my secrets now, can I? Besides, how do I know you won't just run to Dumbledore with the information?"

"I'm sure Dumbledore already knows all the ways in and out of the castle," Carolina responded practically.

"That's true… I assume you want to go into Tomes and Scrolls?" Fred asked as they paused, admiring the shops covered in snow.

"I see you changing the subject, but I'll let it pass this time because yes, I do," Carolina smiled up at him.

"Can't get anything by you, can I?"

"Nope! Oh look, they're having a sale!" Carolina said jubilantly, pulling Fred into the old bookstore.

"Probably because otherwise no student would step foot in here apart from you," Fred said under his breath, before coughing at the musty smell of the place.

Carolina however either didn't hear him or was willfully ignoring him as she headed down an aisle marked "Diaries, Autobiographies and Memoirs."

"Ooh! They have a first edition of Ulick Gamp's journals from his time as minister!"

Fred shuffled down the aisle to stand next to her, as she pulled out a rather decrepit looking book. The spine hung loosely from the front cover.

"And it's only 20 galleons after the sale!"

"20? For that old thing?"

"This would normally retail for 40," Carolina shot back.

"40!?" Fred exclaimed. "Why would anyone pay that for a book?"

Carolina sent a rather unappreciative look at him. "This is a first edition print. Published posthumously in 1750!"

"Right… which doesn't answer my question," Fred replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, it's almost 11:30," Carolina said, looking down at her watch and ignoring Fred.

She sidestepped around him and headed over to the counter. "Just this, please," she said, placing the old book carefully in front of the cashier.

"20 galleons," the old clerk said in a gravelly voice.

"Here you are," Carolina responded, pulling 20 galleons out of her bag and placing them in the man's outstretched hands. "Could you wrap this for me? And add an impenetrable charm?"

"Of course," the man responded as he slowly wrapped the book in tissue.

Fred watched her, his eyes wide. "20 galleons… absolutely barmy…" he muttered under his breath. "You could buy three full shopping bags of products at Zonko's with 20 galleons and you spent it on a book…"

"Well, I don't need three full bags of Zonko's products," Carolina said, shooting him an annoyed look.

"Or like, five full outfits, or 25 lunches, 50 ice cream cones…"

"And I don't need five new outfits or 25 lunches or 50 ice cream cones. Listen, I should run to the three broomsticks," she said, placing the wrapped and enchanted book into her bag and looking at her watch in concern.

"I'm just saying… 25 meals or one book-"

"You're not going to get me to change my mind."

Fred grinned at her. "No, I don't think anyone could."

"Do you… do you still want to hang out after I meet Hermione?" Carolina asked, tentatively. She wasn't sure if Fred would necessarily want to spend more time with her now that they'd argued over how she should spend her money.

Fred chuckled. "You're not getting rid of me that easily. Meet in front of Zonko's?"

"Sure," Carolina breathed out, relieved. "11:50?" she shouted over her shoulder, hurrying out into the snow so as not to be late for her meeting with Hermione.

When she entered the three broomsticks, Hermione was seated in a booth with… oh Merlin, no, Carolina thought to herself.

Across from Hermione was Luna Lovegood.

"Carolina!" Hermione waved her over. "I'm glad you're here! Now if only that horrible woman would show up on time…" she murmured under her breath, before turning back to the Head Girl. "Did you bring the copies?"

"Er, yes," Carolina said as she sat next to Hermione, eying Luna. What was the blonde fourth year doing there? They hadn't had much interaction in the D.A. meetings, which Carolina preferred, since from her understanding, the girl was a few screws loose in the head.

"Right, so Luna's father has agreed to publish your letters in his paper in the same issue as an interview with Harry-"

"Who's interviewing Harry?" Carolina cut in sharply.

"Well, Rita Skeeter, if she ever shows up," Hermione said angrily checking her watch.

"Skeeter? She's an awful reporter!" Carolina responded haughtily.

"Daddy's quite in agreement with you there," Luna said dreamily. "He's always said that she's in cahoots with the Vampire Guild-"

"What's your father's paper?" Carolina interrupted, her expression growing darker.

"The Quibbler!" responded Luna, before looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

"Are you kidding me?" Carolina said, turning in anger to Hermione. "No one's going to take me seriously in The Quibbler!" she added in a hushed voice so that Luna wouldn't hear her. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this-"

Now it was Hermione's turn to interrupt her. "I have it on good authority that, erm, Rita Skeeter's article is going to be 100% truthful so-"

"Yeah? How?"

"Well, I can't exactly tell you," Hermione squeaked, not used to being on the receiving end of one of Carolina's glares. "But-let's just say that I, er, know something about her she doesn't want the Ministry to know."

"So, you're blackmailing her," Carolina said unimpressed. "That's illegal. Yeah, I'm sorry Hermione, I can't allow myself to be associated with this-"

"What other option do you have?" Hermione exclaimed, finally standing up for herself. "The Prophet won't publish you-they're completely under Fudge's thumb!"

"I-" Carolina started, but once Hermione had started, she was rather hard to stop.

"Besides, don't you want your letters to be read by anyone outside of Hogwarts students? Our parents don't know what's going on here; Umbridge is searching our mail, redacting anything remotely critical of her! You have to publish! It's the moral imperative!" She finished with a huff, staring imploringly at Carolina.

Carolina carefully considered her options.

"I want them published word for word. And they have to stay anonymous. My name shouldn't be mentioned anywhere in the paper."

"Of course!" Hermione replied, enthusiastically.

"Here you go," Carolina said, taking the rolls of parchment out of her bag and passing them across the table to Luna.

"Daddy loves being someone's first publisher," Luna said happily.

"Now, if only Rita would get here," Hermione said, eying the door.

Just then, a rather worse for wear looking witch entered the pub. Her hair was wet and raggedy, and her lipstick was wearing off.

"Er, Carolina, you can go if you want," Hermione said before waving the woman over, "Ms. Skeeter! Over here!"

Carolina stood up, preferring not to be seen any longer at a table with arguably the strangest combination of three people the Three Broomsticks would ever see.

"Right, thanks Hermione… thanks, Luna," she said, pushing her way through the crowd as Rita Skeeter half-heartedly pushed through in the opposite direction.

Once outside the pub, Carolina started up the street towards Zonko's, passing a rather miserable looking Potter who didn't even notice her presence, so absorbed was he in his thoughts.

"Oy!" Carolina heard and looked up; a few storefronts ahead, Fred was standing outside the joke shop, waving at her.

"Hey," she said quickly approaching him. She didn't want to draw too much attention to them now that more students were perusing the streets.

"How'd it go?" Fred asked.

"It's for the Quibbler…" Carolina complained with a sigh.

"Could be worse, the Quibbler's great for a laugh."

"Exactly," Carolina frowned.

"Where to now?" Fred asked, obviously changing the subject after seeing how sorely Carolina felt about the publication.

Carolina shrugged despondently.

"I know where. Follow me," Fred said, grabbing her arm and leading her back down towards the bottom of the wizarding village.

"Where are we going?" Carolina demanded

"This way!" Fred replied cheerfully, pulling her to the right and off the main road. In fact, because of the snow coverage, Carolina couldn't really see whether they were on a road at all as they wound through the trees.

"Left at the stump that looks like a goblin…" Fred murmured to himself as Carolina gulped.

If her estimate of where they were was right, they were getting close to…

"Here we are!" Fred said as they rounded a boulder and an old, dilapidated hut came into view.

"You brought me to the shrieking shack? Is this where you murder me and turn my skin into clothes?" Carolina asked, nonplussed.

Fred's eyebrows shot up. "Blimey, Lina, your mind's right twisted."

"Lina?" Carolina questioned as the pair stepped closer to the house.

"I figure I can't call you Madam Head Girl forever and, no offense but Carolina's a bit of a mouthful-anyways, I'm not bringing you to the house, though if you want to break in, I'm all for it."

Carolina mulled the name over in her head. Lina… she liked it quite a bit more than Caro. And, now that she thought about it, she also liked that no one else called her that.

"Just this way," Fred said as they continued on past the house, into a thicker forest.

Suddenly, a thought struck Carolina. "Did you call Angelina that too? Lina?"

"What? No!" Fred said as Carolina side-eyed him. He had answered a little too quickly for her suspicious mind, but as of yet… Fred hadn't lied to her and she supposed she should trust him until he did.

"Really?"

"She would have sucker punched me if I tried. Not one for nicknames, that girl. George and I used to charm a pair of owl wings on her back second year and call her Angel which I think turned her off of them…" Fred added thoughtfully.

Carolina snorted. "So I wasn't the only one you tormented as a twelve year old?"

"Hardly. Though you were the most entertaining-stubborn you were, and pretty easy to get a rise out of you."

"I'm not stubborn," Carolina argued but Fred only raised his eyebrows at her in response.

"Besides, you were such an easy target because you would never do anything back to us. Didn't want to break the rules and get caught hexing another student, I suppose. See, Angelina ended up putting a colony flobberworms in mine and George's beds, so we don't mess with her anymore. Ah, here we are."

Fred stopped and Carolina quickly took her eyes off of his enchanting grin and looked around.

"How did you find this place?" Carolina felt winded at the view. They were standing in a clearing, looking out over a short bluff at the beautiful, icy lake. Carolina could see all of Hogwarts-the castle with its windows glinting in the midday sunlight, the Quidditch stadium, the greenhouses reflecting the forest behind them, and the mountains sprawling out into the horizon… it was absolutely stunning.

"You should get used to the idea that George and I know just about everything there is to know about the castle and grounds."

"You didn't know about the Room of Requirement," Carolina corrected.

"Well, no, but we had-"

"Actually, I bet I know somewhere you've never been."

"Really? Where?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you," Carolina said, thinking of the prefects' bathroom.

Fred looked at her skeptically. "I call bullshit."

"Nope!" Carolina hummed, grinning slyly.

"We've been inside the Slytherin dorms, as you well know-"

"That's not where I'm thinking!"

Fred took a step closer, turning to her so that there was hardly any space between them.

"I think you should tell me."

"Why?" Carolina asked defiantly.

"Because I can be very persuasive," he replied, bringing a hand up to her neck and leaning in. Carolina felt her eyelids flutter closed and her heart rate pick up in anticipation.

Just as their lips were about to meet, Fred's forehead knocked downward into her nose.

"Bloody hell!" Carolina yelped, clutching her face and staggering backwards. "Not as persuasive as I remember!"

Fred whirled around and as he did, Carolina could see a large clump of snow, clinging to the back of his winter hat.

"You're dead!" He hollered into the forest wildly. "Dead man walking!"

Carolina realized what had happened. The snow on the back of his head-someone had thrown a snowball at them.

Suddenly, Fred bent down and scooped up a pile of snow, condensed it in his hands quickly, and lobbed it into the woods. It connected with someone-Carolina couldn't see who-and they let out a loud "oof!"

For a moment, Carolina was impressed by the strength and aim of Fred's snowball, before she remembered that he was a beater, despite not playing quidditch recently. A snowball was probably nothing to him compared to whacking bludgers for hours on end. She felt herself blush as she silently imagined his muscles moving beneath his winter-wear.

"Carolina, come on!" Fred said, grabbing her hand again and racing off into the forest, weaving through the trees.

"Okay," said Fred, coming to an abrupt halt. "Duck down behind that bush."

Carolina followed instructions and dutifully crouched into the snow, despite that fact that her knees were now soaked through.

"It's George and Lee," Fred whispered. "Wait till they come out into the open, then we'll strike."

Carolina nodded and no sooner that he had said it, Fred's prediction came true and Carolina could see Lee and George shuffling through the woods, looking around suspiciously.

"Wait for it…" Fred whispered, as he packed snow into a ball in his hands.

Carolina, for her part, decided to forgo making snowballs, seeing as she hadn't worn any gloves. Instead, she silently drew her wand from her cloak pocket and twirled it through the air, watching as the snow beneath her feet turned itself into tightly packed balls. She was a witch, for goodness's sake! She might as well use her magic.

"3… 2… 1… Now!" Yelled Fred, rising up from their hiding spot and launching his snowballs at his brother and Lee. Carolina followed suit and flicked her wand upwards; the snowballs at her feet shot up. She slashed it through the air and they pitched forward, slamming into their targets with ease.

"Bloody hell!" she heard one of them shout and soon enough, snowballs were being tossed back towards them.

Almost an hour later, Carolina found herself exhausted and completely soaked through. Even her bra felt wet, despite being under three layers of clothing.

She leaned over, panting. Lee and George had just called truce after she had levitated a whole mound of snow and dropped it on their heads before the could dart out of the way.

"Flint, you're not half bad!" Lee called, as he and George approached Fred and Carolina.

"Mate, she pummeled your sorry arse!" Fred responded, his trademark grin lighting up his face.

Carolina only nodded, still trying to catch her breath. The magic had been nothing but the running through snow, jumping over logs and rocks, and dodging Lee's and George's snowballs had completely winded her. She hadn't done that much exercise in… well, she didn't really know.

"You alright?" Fred asked, peering down at her.

"Fine," she wheezed, straightening up at Fred's skeptical look.

"I could do with a hot chocolate," George said as he stepped in front of them.

"Seconded," Lee agreed.

"To the kitchens!" George shouted jubilantly.

"Shall we?" Fred said, offering Carolina his hand once again as the four of them retraced their steps out of the woods and headed back towards the main path.

Carolina was quiet, content to listen to George and Lee's idle chatter, occasionally punctuated by a humorous remark from Fred and soon enough, they were walking up the steps to the entrance to the school.

"You've been awfully quiet," Fred said, his voice low, as the four of them paused in the foyer.

Carolina shrugged. In truth, she really didn't feel entirely comfortable around Fred's friends-didn't feel like she knew them well enough to let her guard down.

"Want to go to the kitchens?" Fred asked.

Carolina shook her head. "No, you go on. I want to get out of these wet clothes."

Fred looked momentarily saddened by her words, before a smirk appeared on his face. "I could help you get out of them if you wanted."

"I think I can handle it on my own," Carolina laughed. "You've really got a one track mind…"

"Hey, you were the one who brought it up. So," Fred paused, looking at her more seriously. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Carolina smiled as Fred ducked down and kissed her lingeringly, only to break away at the sound of George and Lee wolf whistling from a few paces away. "Right. I had fun today."

"Me too," he responded, stepping back, before turning to head to the kitchens with George and Lee. "See you, Lina!"

Carolina watched as the twins and Lee headed down the stairs, listening to them joke around, before turning down the opposite staircase that led to the dungeons, a smile plastered on her face.

Not even Abigail and Delia's snide comments upon entering the common room about the state of her wet clothes and soggy hair could shake her good mood.

She didn't even care that he hadn't officially asked her on a date; that had been the most fun she'd had in a while. It made her feel like a kid again, only her parents would never have thrown snowballs with her and Marcus had always found ways to somehow make it feel miserable.

Finally, as she stripped off her sweater and pulled off the damp tights that were sticking to her legs, her mind turned to her last date… to Hogsmeade, with Felix; the one where Fred had poured butterbeer down her back. Today had been so much better. She collapsed onto her bed. Exponentially better.

* * *

 **Author's Note** **:** _Sorry to make you all wait a bit longer than normal for an update but I hope I made up for it with my longest chapter yet! What did you all think of Carolina and Fred's day in Hogsmeade? I'm having a lot of fun writing the dialogue between them. Thanks for the reviews!_


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-three**

* * *

"So, you're not coming to the Gryffindor Hufflepuff game?" Fred whined into Carolina's mouth. He currently had her pressed into the alcove behind the statue of the one-eyed witch.

Carolina giggled, shaking her head. "Nope!"

"Why not?"

"Too much studying to do! And I have like three parchments of runes to translate and-"

"And there's nothing I can do to change your mind?" Fred purred, tracing his hand over Carolina's cheekbone.

"I mean, you can certainly attempt to," Carolina laughed, "but I'm pretty set on passing my N.E.W.T.s."

Fred groaned, "Always your N.E.W.T.s! What if we sat together at the game?"

"It would be different if you were playing," Carolina said, trying to calm him. "If you were still on the team, I would be in the front row-"

"Rooting for Gryffindor?" Fred cut in slyly.

"Against Hufflepuff, sure!"

"And against Slytherin?"

"When hell freezes over," Carolina smirked at him.

Fred groaned again. "I can't believe I like you," he said dramatically, before kissing her lingeringly. "Actually, I suppose I can," he amended, breaking the kiss.

Carolina laughed. "You could skive off the game too, you know… the castle will be totally empty…"

"So you're willing to forgo studying to make out with me but not for Quidditch?" Fred asked incredulously.

"Exactly!" Carolina responded enthusiastically. "I personally don't care either way whether Hufflepuff or Gryffindor wins."

"Except I'll be in a much better mood if Gryffindor wins…"

"I suppose that would sway me…" She kissed him again.

"And I'm much better company when I'm in a good mood."

"I don't know," Carolina said thoughtfully, "I quite think you're good company most of the time."

"Well, I'm always in a good mood when I'm around you."

"Ha! Only as of late!"

"Well, sixth year doesn't count-I thought you were a death eater."

"And I thought you were an arrogant, pigheaded, rude, stereotyped-"

"Alright, alright!" Fred cut her off, laughing. "Enough of that."

Carolina smiled, before looking down at her watch. "Bugger. I should have started my rounds three minutes ago."

"Come on… It's not like the castle will burn down if you aren't walking around second floor looking for students out past curfew…"

Carolina sighed, dropping her arms from around his neck and standing up straighter. "I know the castle won't burn down but it's my duty as-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Your duty as Head Girl, to the school, to Dumbledore, to uphold the honor et cetera, et cetera... I did read your 50-bloody-page manifesto on being a prefect, you know."

"So then, you know there's no use arguing with me," Carolina smirked, picking her book bag up off the ground and stepping out from the alcove.

"What about the after party? Will you go to that?"

"There'll only be an afterparty if Gryffindor wins," Carolina reminded him.

"And if we do?"

"I'll think about it," Carolina replied laughing, before giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"It can be a joint Gryffindor-winning-Quibbler-publishing party!" Fred responded. "Now that everyone's read your writing!"

"I'll think about it!" She repeated, waving, a big smile on her face as she wandered down the hall.

Carolina knew she wasn't going to go to any party in the Gryffindor common room. She didn't need the general population of Hogwarts knowing of her relationship with Fred Weasley. She knew that if any of her roommates-or rather, if anyone in her house found out about it-apart from Adrian-someone would notify her brother who would in turn notify her parents as a means to mess with her, and if there was anything that Carolina was certain of, it was that under no circumstances did she ever want her mother and father to find out. So, she was perfectly content keeping her-p-whatever it was-with Fred a secret.

On the other hand, it would be nice to celebrate her first published pieces of writing… The only people who had congratulated her upon the release of the most recent issue of the Quibbler had been the members of the D.A. despite the majority of the school having read it.

She had witnessed countless students approaching Potter and thanking him, witnessed him receive bundles of fan letters, and she rather regretted publishing anonymously. However, she was less hungry for the fame and recognition that Potter was receiving than she was scared of her parents' reactions if they ever found out she was thwarting the authority of the High Inquisitor. It simply wouldn't do to have a rebellious Flint. Her mother would probably implode.

But no, she would not go to the party, even if Gryffindor won and even if Fred threw it in her honor, she decided as she headed down the moving staircases to the second floor. Better safe than sorry.

* * *

"Think of the strongest, happiest memory you can!" Harry called out as he walked around the room. Finally, they were learning how to cast the Patronus spell, a spell that Carolina _would_ have been learning in her seventh year had they had a normal professor. If this was the only new magic she learned from the D.A., it would still be worth it.

Carolina focused her thoughts… when had she been the happiest? She thought of receiving her head girl letter from Albus Dumbledore, of Amelia congratulating her, how proud she had felt.

"Expecto Patronum!" she called out, waving her wand in front of her. Nothing happened and Carolina felt her cheeks turn red. She wasn't used to being bad at… well, anything. She looked around the room. At least no one seemed focused on her failure as they were all struggling with the spell themselves. Some people had little puffs of white mist spurting out of their wands when they said the spell, but the mist disappeared almost as soon as it had come.

Something else then… She thought of Adrian, of laughing down the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade with him and Miles, about their arms around each other.

"Expecto Patronum!" Again, nothing happened. Carolina frowned. They had been laughing so hard. Why wasn't it working?

"The happiest memory you have!" Harry yelled. "You have to be able to feel it inside of you-thinking about it should make you feel… warm!"

Carolina looked around the room again.

"Oh!" Hermione let out a yelp as an otter burst forth from her wand, swimming smoothly through the students, nearly bulldozing into Fred and George.

Fred… She would try thinking about Fred. Instantly, the memory of their first kiss popped into her mind-of feeling his breath on her face in the darkness as they hid from Filch, of him whispering "quietly" into her ear, his lips on hers…

"Expecto Patronum!" she yelled, brandishing her wand once again, and this time, a little white vapor did pour out from the wand, but Carolina was disappointed.

"Stronger, Carolina!" Harry called as he walked past her.

Stronger? She tried to think of when she had been happier. If she was honest with herself, that moment in the alcove with Fred, well, she had been happy, but happiness hadn't been the strongest emotion she had been feeling… nervous, anxious, desiring, curious, immensely turned on… she blushed again, her eyes darting quickly over to him. He and George were laughing at Lee who had swung his arm so hard during the spell that he had fallen down.

Suddenly, another memory came to Carolina. The snowball fight. It wasn't the most obvious memory but she could remember how she had felt afterwards, like nothing in the world, not Marcus or even You-Know-Who could drag her mood down. It had felt like… friends or family were supposed to feel like.

"Expecto Patronum!" she bellowed, allowing the images of Fred's rosy cheeks, George's hollering as he swung snowballs at them, Lee's uproarious laugh, of the surprise at having a snowball collide with her ear, of Fred's hand in hers as they ran together, laughing, to fill her mind, feeling a great wave of warmth rise in her chest at the memory. Suddenly, a shape burst forth from her wand and landed on all fours. It shook its fur, before trotting off and sniffing the ground. Carolina felt herself swell with pride.

"Is that a fox?" Fred asked, approaching her and leaning his elbow on her shoulder. "Blimey, you must really like redheads, huh?"

Carolina rolled her eyes, a smile playing at her lips nonetheless. "Shut up you," she said, before adding "well, what's yours?"

"Haven't gotten it yet," Fred said unashamedly.

"Well, what were you thinking of?" Carolina asked, curiosity for his answer bubbling in her stomach.

"Winning the House Quidditch Cup two years ago," Fred said, averting his eyes from Carolina. "Just isn't coming to me though."

"Maybe a different memory?" Carolina suggested.

"Yeah…" Fred said thoughtfully, before pausing, his eyes glazing over. "Oh! Right… Expecto Patronum!"

Another four-legged beast burst forth from his wand. Carolina was surprised; was it a fox as well? No, it was much bigger than hers and rather mangier looking.

"Merlin!" Fred said, astounded.

"Is that a… hyena?" Carolina asked curiously. Its hind legs were strangely shorter than its front ones.

"Yeah! Oy! George!" Fred called, waving his brother over.

"What were you thinking about?" Carolina asked, unable to contain her curiosity. What if… what if they had been thinking about the same memory? Had he been thinking about her?

"Nothing extravagant… just… working with George in our bedroom over the summer," he smiled happily, before adding, "what about you? What were you thinking of?"

"Oh, er, when I was made Head Girl. Dumbledore gave me the letter himself," she lied. She suddenly felt so ashamed… he had been in her happiest memory, but not she in his.

"Very classic Carolina," George said as he walked over. "I'm surprised it wasn't receiving your O.W.L. results."

"Oh, yeah… I suppose that could work too," Carolina said, thinking back to the event. No, that certainly came nowhere near the happiness she felt around Fred.

She blushed. "You're turn," she said to George as he brandished his wand, taking a deep breath in.

"Expecto-what...?" George paused with his wand raised, his mouth hanging open. A little house elf was scampering up to Harry.

"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter sir! I have come to warn you!" The house elf suddenly looked horrified and ran headlong into the nearest wall, bouncing off due to the strange, lopsided hats on his knobby little head.

"Dobby? What is it?" Harry asked, grabbing the elf to restrain him.

From the corner of her eye, Carolina saw hers and Fred's patronuses vanish into mist and evaporate. She turned her attention back to the spectacle in front of her.

"It is she! She-!" the house elf cut himself off by slamming his forehead into Harry's crouched knee.

"She? You mean Umbridge?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir!"

"Has she found out about the D.A.? Does she know where it is?"

The house elf, Dobby, nodded fervently, a pained expression crossing his face as he yet again attempted to ram his head into Harry's knee. Harry was too quick for him though and restrained him at arm's length.

"Is she coming?" Harry's voice lowered considerably.

Carolina didn't even need to hear the whisper from the house elf's lips to know to know the answer; it was written in his humongous, fearful eyes. Umbridge was on her way to the Room of Requirement and would be there any moment.

Harry turned to face the students surrounding him. "What are you waiting for!? RUN!" He yelled, before all chaos broke loose.

Carolina felt Fred grab her hand as they darted out of the door, swinging right down the hallway.

"In here!" Fred whispered, panting at their fast pace, as he swung a door on the side of the corridor open, yanking her inside.

"The girl's bathroom?" Carolina panted after the door had swung shut. "You claim to know all the secret passageways of the castle and you take me to a bathroom?"

"Here, get into a stall," Fred responded, pushing her and him into the middle of three stalls. "Umbridge won't open the door on a student peeing."

Carolina laughed despite herself. "That would be rather inappropriate, yes."

"Listen, she won't get us in here…" Fred said, squeezing her hand. "We'll just have to wait a bit."

Carolina smirked up at him. "I suppose there are worse people I could be stuck waiting in a bathroom stall with…"

Fred grinned, before leaning down to kiss her. Carolina let him, pulling her hand free from his and bringing it up to tangle her fingers through his red hair.

Suddenly, with a bang, the stall door flew open and Carolina wrenched herself away from Fred's lips.

"Flint? With Weasley?" Oh no, Carolina thought… oh no, no, no…

There, standing in front of her was a very pleased looking Pansy Parkinson, the fifth year Slyrtherin prefect.

"Professor Umbridge!" she called joyfully, "I've caught the Head Girl!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Short chapter and I originally wasn't going to end it there but I honestly loved ending it on that line! Looks like Carolina's life is about to get significantly worse! Let me know your thoughts and as always, thank you all for reading and reviewing!_


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-four**

* * *

Carolina cut the piece of chicken on her plate into smaller and smaller pieces, unable to bring herself to eat them; she had never felt so miserable in her entire life. She was seated at the far end of the Slytherin table. A few seats down from her were a gaggle of first years, cautiously glancing at her every now and again, before whispering to their friends.

Adrian wasn't speaking to her, and Delia and Abigail had gotten up and moved when she sat down to eat with them. Even Morgana who had arrived late had forgone sitting with Carolina to sit with her younger sister.

Carolina sighed, raising her eyes to look up at the staffing table.

Umbridge was sitting in the Headmaster's seat at the center of the table, primly placing pieces of pork into her portly mouth. She watched as their new Headmistress dabbed her pink lips with her napkin, before returning to eat.

It didn't feel possible that only yesterday she had been watching hers and Fred's patronuses prance around the Room of Requirement; today, she felt as if a dementor had been following her about from class to class.

She had woken up to an owl tapping its sharp talons on her window, with a piece of parchment tied to its leg. When she opened the window, the owl hopped inside, and she quickly pulled the parchment from it, opening it feverishly.

" _Dear Ms. Flint,_

 _Kindly report to my office at 8 PM sharp this evening._

 _Yours,_

 _Dolores Umbridge_

 _Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"_

And her day hadn't gone much better from there. By the time she arrived at breakfast, it seemed that Pansy Parkinson had told all of Slytherin exactly where and with whom she had found the Head Girl last night. That, and the tales about a secret defense society, organized by Albus Dumbledore and full of Gryffindors had spread like wildfire through the school so rapidly that when Carolina had run up to Adrian after breakfast, he only had cold words for her:

" _I don't know who you are, but the Carolina I knew would never have betrayed her house like this!"_

Carolina pushed the chicken around on her plate. Hesitantly, she raised a piece to her mouth and bit down. It tasted dry and flavorless. She chewed. Swallowing, she could feel the lump of meat go down her throat like sandpaper.

She pushed the plate away and looked down at her watch. It was only seven, she still had an hour to go before her meeting with Umbridge. But she didn't want to be sitting here anymore. Anywhere else would be better, she thought sullenly.

She did have her Potions homework to do… though the only thing Carolina wanted to do was curl up in a ball beneath her warm comforter in her familiar four poster bed. Still, the homework would pass the time, so she stood up and quickly left the hall, ignoring the whispers and looks that followed her as she passed down the aisle between the tables.

By the time quarter to eight rolled around, Carolina was only half done with the homework, despite already knowing the theory behind brewing antidotes, but her mind was moving mulishly. Scowling down at the parchment, she quickly rolled it up, swung her bag over her shoulder, and left the library.

Her feet dragged upon the stone floors and the pitter patter of her mary-janes sounded like cymbals crashing in her ears. There was no way this meeting would reveal anything good.

Carolina knocked on the new Headmistress's door-though Umbridge had retained her old office; Carolina had heard that Dumbledore's office had sealed itself to her, despite the fit that the High Inquisitor had thrown.

"Come in!"

Carolina sucked in her breath, preparing for the worst, and pushed open the door.

"Ah, Ms. Flint, take a seat," Professor Umbridge said, gesturing to the cushioned seat across the desk from her.

Carolina sat down gingerly, frowning at the distasteful decor.

"Tea?" Umbridge said, sliding a little cup and saucer across the table to her. The tea was a terrible pinkish color.

Carolina grimaced but took it anyway. "Thank you."

"I expect you know why you are here, Ms. Flint," the professor said, a slight frown of fake concern forming on her lips.

Carolina was faced with two options: she could either play dumb and lie, pretend that she had never been involved and that she had merely been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time or she could own up to forgoing the rules at the educational decrees had lain out…

Umbridge, perhaps interpreting Carolina's pause as denial, decided to continue on. "You see, when Mr. Filch and I investigated the room where you all were meeting, we found this…" She reached her pudgy little hands into the top desk drawer and pulled out a piece of parchment that Carolina instantly recognized as the list of students in Dumbledore's Army. Bollocks. Well, at least she could be saved from the decision of whether to lie or not.

"I must say, despite your, shall we say...impropriety in my class, I was terribly surprised to find your name on this list… especially after I heard such compliments from Madam Bones… I would never have thought that you, a daughter from a well respected, pureblood family, would join in a plot against the Ministry!"

A plot against the Ministry? Was Umbridge off her rocker? They had merely been studying spells that had _formerly_ been on the defense syllabus.

"It wasn't a plot against the Min-"

"There's no need for you to lie, girl. Just last night Dumbledore confessed to organizing the students to form an army on his behalf! The Ministry has already dispatched our best aurors to bring that heretic to Azkaban!"

Carolina's jaw dropped open. So that's why Dumbledore was missing and Umbridge had taken his place as Headmistress? Because he was on the run from the Ministry? Blimey… A lot had happened in the past 24 hours.

"I'm afraid, Ms. Flint, "Umbridge continued, her twisted, saccharine smile distorting her frog-like face, "that Head Girls are not immune to punishment when found to be breaking the rules. I have already taken the liberty of writing your parents about your indiscretion-"

"No!" squeaked Carolina, horror showing on her face.

Umbridge's smile only grew wider. "Yes, indeed. Furthermore, I have thought long and hard about how to ensure that you have learned your lesson and come to the conclusion that having proved yourself incapable of acting as a responsible leader for the students of Hogwarts, certain privileges must be stripped…"

Carolina felt her stomach drop. Surely, she wouldn't dare!

"Your badge, if you would," Umbridge said, sticking out her hand.

No! Carolina's brain screamed. No! She couldn't do this! Dumbledore had given her this badge, this position as Head Girl. This was completely unfair!

"I-" Carolina started to say, but Umbridge interrupted her, drawing her wand.

"I'm afraid if you don't comply, I will be compelled to take it from you by force."

Carolina felt her eyes well up with tears as her hands moved up to the collar of her robes and nimbly unpinned the Head Girl badge, dropping it into the heinous Professor's hand.

"I have already taken the liberty to inform Roger Davies that he is no longer needed, as the Inquisitorial Squad will be responsible for organizing the prefects for the rest of the year."

Carolina nodded numbly.

"And you will report to the foyer tomorrow at 11 in the morning for detention with Mr. Filch."

Detention!? Carolina had never received a detention. She felt the tears that had been threatening to overwhelm her vision begin to roll down her cheeks.

"Oh, there's no reason to cry, dear girl," Umbridge said. "I know you wanted to work for the Ministry after school-though the Minister and I agree that due to recent events, it would be unwise for you to pursue a career in Magical Law… but they are always hiring in Magical Maintenance! You may just get a job after Hogwarts yet!"

Carolina gulped down her tears.

"May I go?" She managed to say, rage burning in her chest. She had never despised anyone more in her life.

"Yes, of course, dear. Straight back to your common room with you!"

Carolina burst from Umbridge's office with hatred coursing through her body. That abhorrent woman! That hateful, deplorable reptile!

Yet, things only managed to grow worse as she reached the bustling Slytherin common room.

Stepping through the portrait hole, she recognized her mother's black owl, dutifully perched on the back of an unoccupied armchair. She slowly approached it, before noticing the envelope tied to its talons; it was a menacing blood red.

Oh no… She recognized that type of envelope, though she had never personally received one. Marcus had once… when he flunked his seventh year.

Maybe if she took it from the owl quick enough, she could run upstairs and hear the wrath of the Howler in private.

She quickly untied it from the owl's legs and was about to turn upstairs when the envelope started sparking and hissing, before it burst open with a flash of flames and her mother's harrowing shouts echoed through the common room, silencing all of the side chatter:

" _You absolute disgrace! You have brought complete shame to our family! For all your father and I have done to bring you up to be a respectable, pureblood woman… and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful child! Plotting heresy against our very government? And sneaking around with a WEASLEY!?"_

The parchment began to splutter, sparks flying out. A few landed on the rug, singeing it.

" _Your father and I must think long and hard about whether to accept you back into our home this summer, such humiliation you have brought upon the Flint name!"_

At those words, the howler exploded in a shrill screech and Carolina winced, before looking around the room. There wasn't a single eye that wasn't trained on her.

She felt her cheeks burn, desperately wanting to disappear.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she shook herself out of her stupor and took off, running as fast as she could up the stairs to her dormitory as the common room erupted with whispers in her wake.

Upon reaching the safety of her room, Carolina dived head first into her four poster bed, and drew the curtains tightly around her. As her head hit the pillow and she pulled her knees into her chest, she allowed the sobs that had been threatening to escape her lips all day burst forth from her mouth.

Carolina couldn't remember for how long she had cried that night, only that at some point she must have drifted off into a dreamless sleep, for she awoke late the next morning feeling parched and dried out.

In no mood to be stared at or whispered about, Carolina decided to forgo breakfast, instead taking a long, hot shower, before woefully walking to her very first detention.

"Ah, Ms. Flint," Filch croaked, smiling sinisterly as she approached the entryway. In his right hand was a rag and in his left was a bucket of water. "The Headmistress told me to come up with a punishment that would teach you humility and I have just the thing," he said, before coughing.

"The floors need to be cleaned. Students have been tracking in mud all morning."

He stretched out his hand with the rag. Carolina took it, cringing. It was already quite dirty, and she held it daintily between her thumb and pointer finger, sniffing in distaste.

"And don't worry, I'll be here the whole time to make sure you don't use any magic," Filch grinned, bearing his yellowing teeth, as he dropped the water bucket unceremoniously onto the floor.

What proceeded could only be described as the worst morning of Carolina's life.

It seemed like all of Slytherin had gotten wind of her punishment and had decided to communally take enjoyment in going for short walks out onto the grounds and then tracking new mud from the recent snow melt back into the castle for Carolina to scrub up and Filch's snide comments only made things worse.

Her knees were raw and she could only assume that beneath her tights, bruises were purpling.

This was public humiliation more than detention, Carolina decided with hardened resolution. Her knuckles hurt from all the times they had accidentally scraped against ground, and her back ached and if she heard Pansy Parkinson's derisive laugh one more time…

"Mrs. Norris? No! My sweet!" She heard Filch's hoarse yelp from where he was stationed behind her and paused, looking up.

Apparently, Filch's mangy cat had fainted or passed out or… died? It was lying limply at the bottom of the stairs.

"You!" Filch said, turning towards her and pointing his knobbly finger at her. "You did this!"

Carolina snorted. "How in the world would I have done anything? You've been watching me clean for the past two hours!" she responded angrily. What gall he had to accuse her of killing his cat!

Filch glared at her. "You are to keep going until it's all clean!" he said, before scooping up his cat and walking up the staircase, presumably to visit Madam Pomfrey.

Carolina sat up fully, finally taking a break now that she wasn't being watched. She wiped her brow. Oh, how she wished his cat was really dead, the miserable creature.

"Oy!" Carolina heard, and swirled her head around in the direction of the familiar voice. There, hiding behind one of the suits of armor was Fred. "Come here!"

Carolina stood up without being told twice and scampered over to him.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Rescuing you!" Fred said, grinning. "Scourgify!" he said, pointing his wand at the floor and vanishing most of the mud. "Eh… good enough," he shrugged to himself.

"Did you kill his cat?" Carolina asked.

"Only stunned her," Fred replied. "But she should be out for a while… I've been practicing my defensive spells, you know," he winked at her.

Carolina grinned, before dragging him out from behind suit of armor, throwing her arms around him and kissing him squarely on the mouth.

If there was an upside to this horrendous situation in which she had landed herself, it was that things couldn't get any worse… her housemates all already knew that she had been snogging Fred in the girls' bathroom, so what did she care if they saw her kissing him in the foyer?

"Let's get out of here before he comes back," Carolina said, pulling away.

"You read my mind," Fred responded as he took her hand. "Outside?"

"As far away from Umbridge as possible," Carolina groaned.

"I know just the place!" Fred said, leading her out the doorway into the courtyard.

They walked down the great lawn, towards the lake, and upon reaching the shore, continued walking away from the castle to a large boulder just on the edge of the Forbidden Forest that students liked to jump off of and into the water when the weather was warmer.

"I didn't see you at breakfast this morning," Fred said after they had climbed up the rock and sat down with their legs dangling off the side.

"I suppose I didn't feel like hearing my own friends gossip about me," Carolina shrugged.

"They're not your friends if they act like that. Friends stand by each other," Fred said determinedly, glaring out at the dark waters. "Anyway," he added, changing the subject, "I thought you might be hungry so I saved this from breakfast," he said, pulling out a napkin-wrapped scone from his pocket. At the sight of it, Carolina's stomach gave a roaring growl.

Carolina turned to him with a big smile. "Thanks," she blushed, taking the scone from him and biting in.

"Sure. Actually, Lina, there was something I wanted to talk to you about…" Fred trailed off, still staring out at the waters.

"Mm-yeah?" Carolina asked, swallowing her bite of scone and setting it down on the napkin beside her.

"Well, with Dumbledore having flown the coop and all, George and I reckon that we've gleaned everything we could from our education and, well," he paused, taking a breath in. "We've decided to leave after our birthday…"

"What!" Carolina said, staring at him incredulously. His birthday was next week… the first day of April… he couldn't… she'd have absolutely no one.

Once again, Carolina's vision began to swim with tears.

"Yeah, kind of like a form of protest, you know?" Fred said, still looking out at the lake. "And I mean, there's no reason we need to pass our N.E.W.T.s anyways, because of the joke shop, you know? And we reckon we have enough products and our mail order service has been booming and-"

"Oh my god," Carolina muttered, burrowing her face in her hands, determined not to let him see the tears falling down her cheeks. "Oh my god," she repeated. She'd be all alone… no Adrian, her dorm mates hated her, her parents might not let her move back in after graduation, she'd been stripped of her status as Head Girl, Umbridge had probably written to Amelia and told her that Carolina shouldn't be hired back at the Ministry… and now Fred was leaving her?

"Lina…" Fred said, turning to her after finally realizing that she was crying. "No, I don't mean…"

He was leaving her… and he had been the one to drag her into this whole mess. He had been the one who had told Hermione that she had been writing those letters… he had wanted her to join the D.A. and he had pulled her into that bloody bathroom stall! And now he was abandoning her? After everything she had sacrificed to be with him?

"You bloody bastard!" Carolina yelled indignantly, whipping her wand out and pointing it at him with a shaky hand. "You complete arse!"

"Whoa!" Fred said, holding his hands up in defense. "No need for that!"

"You're telling me this one week before you leave? Not even that, six days!" Carolina yelled. She could feel her nose begin to run, she was crying so much, but she didn't even care.

"Well, we couldn't have predicted when Umbridge would become Headmistress-"

"But you always knew you were going to leave?" Carolina interrupted harshly.

"Er, yeah, you know, it was just a matter of time until we had everything in order-"

"Merlin, you absolute twatty fucking arsehole!" Carolina exclaimed as she lowered her wand and put her face in her hands again, causing Fred to chuckle at her language. "Don't you dare laugh at me, Fred Weasley!" she yelled at the sound, whipping her wand back out again, but with less enthusiasm this time.

"Sorry-not laughing," Fred corrected himself, before looking at her curiously. "Lina… it'll only be a few months, it's not-"

"What?" Carolina asked, sitting up straight.

"I mean, I can talk to George-maybe we can push back the departure date until the end of April, or something-but it'll only really be May and then a bit of June-and then I'll see you again. I mean, it sucks, but I don't know if it warrants… this much…" he said, trailing off.

Carolina sniffed, raising her eyebrows. He… wasn't ending things with her?

"We're not… breaking up?" she asked hesitantly.

Fred looked aghast, before his lips shifted into his trademark smirk. "That's what you thought?"

Carolina hiccuped, feeling a little embarrassed and more than a little disoriented. "Erm, yeah."

Fred chuckled. "Lina, it'd be hard to break up with you seeing as we technically aren't, you know, boyfriend-girlfriend…" he trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Tosser," Carolina spat back. Was he joking around?

"If you'd like me to break up with you, I think I should at least be your boyfriend first," Fred continued, grinning down at her.

Carolina wiped her nose and gave him a hard look. "What are you saying?"

"Be my girlfriend?"

"Merlin, you are-you are-" Carolina started to say, trying to find the right words to describe his utter tactlessness, insensitivity, ill-timed humor, wiles…

"Handsome?" Fred interrupted. "Charming? Debonair? Hilarious? Genius? You know, if you don't stop me, I'll just have to assume you agree with my descriptions-"

"Bloody annoying!" Carolina spat at him. "You really think that one week before you leave Hogwarts is a good time to ask someone to be your girlfriend?"

"Well, better late than never, right? At least, that's what Flitwick always says about my Charms homework…"

"Well, I'm not your bloody charms homework! I'm a person!" Carolina cried out, throwing her hands in the air.

Fred turned to gaze at her seriously, and Carolina felt her breath catch as his eyes searched hers. "You know, I quite like you when you're all flustered," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her face.

Carolina narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't have it in her to come up with a cutting comeback… or perhaps she didn't want to… his face was drawing nearer and nearer.

"You haven't answered my question," he said. His eyelids were drooping.

"What question?" Carolina asked breathlessly.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" His face was mere inches away from hers. She could hear the trees of the forest behind them shuffling in the wind.

Carolina nodded her head, just slightly and as soon as she did, Fred's lips crashed into hers. His hands immediately cupped her face, drawing her towards him and Carolina found herself leaning upwards. She wanted to be as close as she could, wanted the space between them to vanish.

His kisses were everywhere-her temple, her ear, the corner of her jaw, the side of her neck-and his hands had moved down, grasping her back, clinging to her as tightly as he could. As his lips descended to her collarbone, Carolina let out a sudden gasp; she had never been kissed there before and the combination of his warm lips and the bitingly cold March air felt, well, extraordinary. She took a breath in, before pulling away; she wasn't entirely certain that she could trust her body in his presence just then.

"Do you _have_ to leave?" she asked, running her hand through his hair, lightly dragging her fingers over his scalp and down to his neck.

Fred nodded, before returning his gaze to peer back out at the lake.

"Just… just stay a bit longer. At least longer than one week…"

Fred looked down at her with a sad half-smile. "Longer than one week."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _So, with this chapter published, I am officially over 100,000 words which is honestly so astounding to me! Thank you all for the support. Reading your reviews really makes my day!_


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-five**

* * *

Carolina poked her head up and out from the book perched on the desk in front of her, staring longingly at the pair of students three tables away from her. About an hour ago, Adrian and Miles had flounced into the library, walking right past her table, only to set up shop in her line of sight-as if to say, "we can pass our N.E.W.T.s just fine without your study guides, Carolina."

She wanted to scowl at them . To do more than scowl; to yell and scream and tell Adrian he was being a horrible friend-but she held her composure. That being said, focusing on the book she was reading had become much more difficult in their presence. Occasionally, Adrian would look up from whatever homework he was working on and whisper something to Miles, who would shake in laughter and whisper something back. It made Carolina terribly jealous; Adrian was her best friend, not Miles's!

Carolina sighed and looked down at her watch. She had just over ten minutes until her career meeting with the head of her house anyways and might as well pack up and arrive a few minutes early; she wouldn't be getting any reading done here right now.

As she walked to Professor Snape's office, she remembered their meeting from two years back. Not much had changed for her since taking her O.W.L.s. She still wanted to work for the ministry-perhaps even more so now that she saw the need their government had for honest civil servants. In fact, after the long months of having Umbridge as a teacher, she now felt exceptionally determined to enter the Ministry and weed out the employees who skirted the due processes of the law…

She rapped her knuckles against Professor Snape's door.

"Come in," his voice said calmly from inside.

Carolina swung the door. "Hi, Professor. Hope I'm not interrupting anything; I'm a few early-oh!"

Carolina nearly jumped at the sight of the squat woman sitting to the side of Snape's desk. Why was Umbridge here?

"Not a problem, Carolina, have a seat."

Carolina gingerly took sat down across from him, carefully eying the woman to her right.

"Now, I assume that your ambitions have not changed since our last meeting?" Snape asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"They haven't, sir," Carolina responded.

"Hem-hem," Umbridge coughed, but Snape ignored her.

"And I understand that, unsurprisingly, you have kept your grades at their previous standards."

"I have, sir."

"Hem-hem."

"Indeed. Then I will be glad to write a recommendation for you when it you begin your job application process. Have you begun a plan of-"

"Excuse me, Severus, but I feel I must intervene," Umbridge said sweetly, clasping her clipboard to her chest.

"Yes… Dolores?" Snape sneered, barely hiding the hate in his voice. Carolina swelled at his tone-it felt good to have at least one person on her side.

"Ms. Flint is hardly the model student-especially after last week's… incident, shall we say... I hardly think that her prospects haven't changed."

"And why would that be?" Snape deadpanned.

"Well, for one, she has been stripped of her position as Head Girl and I unfortunately feel it is my duty to inform any potential employers of the reasoning behind that, especially if she is to attempt working at the Ministry!" Umbridge said with venom in her voice, despite the smile that stayed on her lips throughout her speech.

"Well then," Snape said passively. "Be that as it may, Ms. Flint may still wish to apply to the Ministry. It is her prerogative after all, and as she is a student in my house, I will attempt to help her succeed in whichever field she chooses."

"And as she is a heretic of the Ministry, I will do everything in my power to warn her future employer of her treason!"

"Then I suppose it will be your word… against mine," Snape said casually, before turning back to Carolina. "Now, did you have any questions about the application process, Ms. Flint?"

Carolina shook her head, slightly bewildered at the argument unfolding in front of her.

"No? I suppose you already have a schedule for when to submit your essays?"

Carolina nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then I suppose we can call a close to our meeting-unless you have something to add, Dolores?"

"No, except that I am surprised, Severus, not to find your support on this matter. Lucius Malfoy had spoken very highly of you!"

"If that is all," Snape said, nearly ignoring Umbridge's statement, "then you may go, Carolina. Will you be staying for Mr. Warrington's meeting, Dolores?"

Carolina started to grab her bag and walk out but Snape caught her eye; she could have sworn he had shaken his head imperceptibly.

"No-I fear I overbooked myself this afternoon. Severus," she nodded in farewell, before walking towards the door.

"Carolina, if you would hold on a moment-I'd like to discuss the conclusion of your paper on antidotes…" Snape said, eying Umbridge's exiting figure.

Her paper? They hadn't had a paper on antidotes… Carolina gulped. Was she in trouble? What was he getting at?

"Sir?" she asked, retracing her steps and standing in front of his desk.

Snape paused a moment, his eyes on the door, before he pulled out his wand and with a flick, shut it.

"Have a seat," he said before adding, "obviously there is no paper on antidotes," answering her questioning eyes.

"Oh."

"Before he left, Dumbledore was in contact with Madam Bones and had previously made arrangements with her for you to continue working in her department."

"Really?" Carolina asked. This was just about the opposite of what she had expected after hearing his conversation with Umbridge.

"Obviously, it is not advisable for the High Inquisitor," Snape scowled, " to find out until your employment contract has been signed… hence…" he gestured with his hand, indicating their second meeting.

"That's great, sir!" Carolina said excitedly. She had been planning to apply to a few different departments, though her heart had been set on working with Amelia again.

"There is, however, something else for you to consider," Snape said, his eyes fixed on hers magnetically.

Carolina nodded for him to go on.

"What I am about to tell you requires the utmost discretion-and I am only telling it to you at the suggestion of the Headmaster-former Headmaster, and I feel that if you do not wish to comply, I will have to erase this meeting from your memory, do you understand?"

Carolina nodded.

"Are you sure you would like for me to continue?"

Carolina paused. She didn't want for him to erase her memory… but she was so very curious to find out what he was talking about. And more than anything, she desperately wanted to work under Amelia.

"Yes, sir."

"After reading your name on the list of students involved in… Potter's little club… the Headmaster decided that you had potential to be an asset in the fight against the Dark Lord…"

Carolina's eyebrows shot up. That wasn't what she had been expecting.

"Astute as you are, I'm sure it has become obvious to you why exactly Umbridge is here."

"Yes, sir; because the Ministry is intervening at Hogwarts."

"And you know why that is?"

"Because they believe Dumbledore to be plotting against them-"

"When in reality, Dumbledore is merely attempting to alert the Ministry to the fact of the Dark Lord's return."

Carolina paused, remembering her conversation with Fred, months ago. The reason the Ministry was at odds with Dumbledore was because they were refusing to accept that You-Know-Who had murdered Cedric Diggory, that Potter had seen him return.

"Yes, sir."

"As Madam Bones is aware, there is a group of wizards and witches whose main mission is to thwart the Dark Lord-"

"Are you a member of that group, sir?" Carolina asked quietly.

"I am." Snape paused, his stare growing more and more intense. Carolina wasn't even sure when the last time he blinked was. "Madam Bones needs an assistant. Someone who will report to the Order of the Pheonix-"

"The Order of the Pheonix?" Carolina questioned, furrowing her brow.

"Yes-this is the aforementioned collective of wizards and witches-"

"Oh, right," Carolina said quickly, nodding.

"As I was saying, Madam Bones finds that she is far too high profile to regularly attend Order meetings and needs someone to report back to the Order for her. Dumbledore thought-and I agree with him," Snape said, nodding at her, "that having proven your loyalty to Hogwarts and its students, having performed admirably and attentively as Head Girl, and having already worked with Madam Bones, you would be perfect for the job."

Carolina sat in stunned silence. She'd be getting her dream job-but she would have to become involved in a secret society to defeat You-Know-Who. Now, she had to ask herself: was it worth the risk?

"If you accept, you will have to swear to the utmost secrecy. No one can know of your ties to the Order. Dumbledore hopes that with your foot in the Ministry, you will quickly outgrow your position under Madam Bones and eventually be promoted however," Snape's look darkened as he continued, "we have reason to believe that there are various… sympathizers of the Dark Lord's cause already working in the Ministry which is why we will need your discretion. If they were to find out that you were passing on information…"

Carolina shuddered as Snape's voice trailed off threateningly.

"Of course," she nodded resolutely, carefully considering his words.

Snape opened his mouth but there was a sudden knock on the door.

"Come in…" he called.

Cassius poked his head in. "Sorry, sir, am I interrupting? It's a few past my appointment…"

"No, you may come in. Ms. Flint, I will schedule a meeting with you to hear your reply in three days time. I hope you consider this… offer."

"I will, sir," Carolina said as she grabbed her bag and hurried out the door, the gears in her mind whirring into action.

This was a humongous vote in confidence from both Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. A vote in confidence and a surprising amount of trust in an eighteen year old…

But, she wasn't sure of what to choose. Besides, a part of her didn't like the idea of getting the job just because they needed someone there… she wanted to feel like she had earned the position; this almost felt like nepotism.

"Oy! Lina!" Carolina stopped walking and turned around to see Fred running up the hallway towards her. "Where you headed?" he asked upon reaching her.

"The kitchens," Carolina said as he threw his arm around her shoulders and fell into pace with her.

"Don't feel like eating with the Slytherins tonight, eh?"

"Nope."

"Good. I'll come with."

"Oh! Uh, sure," Carolina said. She wasn't sure she wanted his company right now… she had a lot to think about and well, it was hard to think about anything in his presence.

"Should I not?" Fred said, mocking offense.

"No, no, I love eating with you," Carolina corrected, smiling up at him. It would be nice to not eat alone after being the Slytherin exile for the past week… and she supposed she would have all evening to mull over her decision, now that she wasn't doing her Head Girl rounds.

"Splendid! So, as you know, tomorrow-"

"Is your birthday," Carolina interrupted. "Yes, I know! You've only told me a hundred times this week; not to mention writing it in my day planner in Transfiguration!"

"Well, George and I are planning a little celebration and I want you to be there," Fred said, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Oh yeah? What are we doing?"

"Can't tell you. It's a surprise!" Fred grinned.

"I feel like birthdays are supposed to work the opposite way, right? You're the one who is supposed to be surprised," Carolina said with raised eyebrows.

"Well, we've never been very traditional… but you'll be there?"

"Of course," Carolina said as they reached the painting of the bowl of fruit. She reached out a hand and tickle the pear.

"You know the alcove with the statue of the one eyed witch-where we… you know…" he said, as they pulled open the portrait and stepped through the hole.

"Yes," Carolina said, rolling her eyes, "obviously."

"There's a passageway behind it. But meet in front of the statue at 9, okay?"

"Curfew is at 9," Carolina frowned as an elf came running up to them to take their orders.

"Well, you broke curfew for the D.A."

"And I got in trouble for it-"

"Come on, Lina!" Fred whined. "Seriously, I'll only ever ask you to do this once-and it's for a special occasion."

"Fine, fine-oh, sorry for making you wait!" she said to an elf who had nearly run underfoot in excitement.

"It is nothing to be sorry for!" the elf squeaked as Carolina and Fred sat down.

"Bloody hell, it smells so good in here!" Fred said, inhaling. "What's that smell?"

"Potatoes au gratin!" the elf replied.

"I want that… and sausage, do you have sausage?"

"Yes, sir!" the elf replied enthusiastically. "And for you missus?"

"The same… and two butterbeers, please!" Carolina said as the elf ran off happily. She turned to Fred. "I honestly don't know what I'd do if you and George hadn't shown me this place fifth year."

"You'd be stuck sitting with Belch-ley!" Fred grinned, causing Carolina to laugh.

"Oh, Merlin, how have I not thought of calling him that before?" she said, chuckling to herself.

"Because it takes a mind of absolute genius to come up with something like that…" Fred grinned.

"Ha! Your mind? Genius?" Carolina responded, smiling.

"I do remember you saying that you admired the spellwork that went into expanding the invisibility charm on our headless hats," Fred said with a smug look, raising his eyebrows.

"Merlin, I can't give you one compliment without it going to your head," Carolina said, rolling her eyes despite the smile that still remained on her face.

"Butterbeers!" the elf squealed, hurrying back with two large flagons in his hands.

"Cheers, mate!" Fred said to the elf, who immediately bowed before running away again.

Fred turned back to Carolina. "So, have you gotten me a present yet?"

"I may have…"

"And… what is it?"

"You think I'm going to tell you the day before your birthday?" she asked exasperatedly.

"No, but it was worth a shot," he winked back.

Soon enough, the elf came scurrying back, his arms laden with plates of food for them, and by the time she and Fred had finished their dinners, Carolina was glad he had asked to eat with her. Her belly hurt-though whether from laughter or fullness, she wasn't sure-and her cheeks ached from smiling, which seemed to be a common symptom of being Fred Weasley's girlfriend. Still, as they exited the kitchens, she could feel anxiety bubbling in the back of her mind at the thought that she had to make a life-altering decision in three days time.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hey everyone! Well, we had some quality Snape/Umbridge/Carolina time this chapter as well as some sweet Fred/Carolina time! Let me know your thoughts on it all... What do you think she'll decide to do?_


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter Thirty-six**

* * *

"Er, Fred, before you open it," Carolina started as she nervously fiddled with her fingers, "I didn't get anything for George so... do you think that is okay?" They were sitting, huddled together in the courtyard on a breezy morning.

"I'm sure it's fine," Fred countered. "He wouldn't even know when your birthday is if I hadn't dragged him out the day before to find a present in London."

"I suppose you can share it with him, anyway," Carolina murmured to herself, shivering as a gust of wind rippled through the courtyard where they were sitting.

"What's that?" Fred asked.

"Nothing-go on, open it!" Carolina said. She wasn't entirely sure this had been a good idea for a present, but it had been the only thing she could think of; they hadn't exactly talked about this kind of thing.

She watched as Fred nimbly unwrapped the small package, pulling out a jar of grey dust. He furrowed his eyebrow, frowning. "Lina, is this someone's ashes?" he asked, his lips quirking upwards.

"No," Carolina rolled her eyes. "It's powdered erumpent horn. I thought we might use it for N.E.W.T. potions this year but I can always buy more if I need to-"

"Erumpent horn?" Fred interrupted, his eyes widening. "So then, does this…?"

"It's highly explosive, yes," Carolina said warily eying the small bottle. "You just need flames-and no more than a quarter teaspoon at a time, otherwise-"

"Bloody hell…" Fred trailed off, obviously enraptured by the little container. Then, his trademark smirk appeared on his face and his eyes moved up from the bottle to gaze at Carolina. "So if I were to, say, draw my wand and light a flame," he said, pulling his wand out from his pocket.

"No!" Carolina shouted with bulging eyes, lunging across him to grab his wand from his hand.

Fred dexterously darted his wand out of her reach. "Kidding, kidding," he grinned.

"That's a horrible joke," Carolina frowned, crossing her arms. "I have half a mind to retract the present!"

"You can't retract a present," Fred argued. "Once it's given, it's the possession of the recipient!"

"Be that as it may, I'm having doubts about this-"

"Well, that's too bad," Fred said as he pocketed his present, before scooting closer to her. "Great gift by the way," he smiled.

"I wish I had thought to get you something when we went to Hogsmeade, so it could be a real gift…"

"Honestly, Lina, this is better than anything you could have found in Hogsmeade. In fact, I already have an idea for how to use it," he said, patting the pocket in which he had stored the powder.

"Yeah? Do I want to know?"

"How about I tell you when it's done, so that you don't feel obliged to tell me to stop?" he winked at her.

Carolina grinned. "Sounds like a deal-though now that I'm not Head Girl it doesn't really matter if I tell you to stop, does it? It's not like I can take points away… or give detention…"

"And thank Merlin for that! Gryffindor would be nearing negative if you were still Head Girl-"

"Hey!" Carolina interrupted, pulling away from him a bit. "I hadn't deducted any points from you in months!"

"That's because you were too busy pushing me up against stacks of books in the restricted section and-"

"That's enough," Carolina blushed as Fred chuckled, putting his arm around her. "Speaking of the restricted section… I have a bloody Arithmancy paper due on Monday…"

"Fine, run along, then… abandon me on my very own birthday!" Fred said dramatically, bringing the back of his hand up to his forehead as if he were about to faint.

"I suppose I could do it tomorrow…" Carolina said, though she preferred not to procrastinate doing any of her assignments.

"No, no, it's fine. In fact, I might want to bugger off and show George our most recent acquisition before tonight."

"You sure?" Carolina asked, gazing up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

"Positive," Fred beamed. "Though I think I deserve at least one kiss, if you're actually deserting me for your homework…"

Carolina grinned. "I suppose that could be arranged…" she said, leaning in as her eyelids fluttered shut.

Carolina spent the rest of her day regretting her decision to work on homework instead of spending time with Fred, but by the time 8:45 rolled around, she had not only finished her Arithmancy paper, but researched for her Potions assignment and proudly completed the Muggle Studies extra credit assignment on World War II. This meant, she would have all day tomorrow to spend with him… or to study for the ever-imminent N.E.W.T.s that felt like they were approaching much more rapidly than she was comfortable admitting out loud.

She returned the books she had been using as reference to their proper places and checked her watch. 8:55. She didn't want to be late for whatever Fred had planned for them, so she grabbed her book bag and ran out of the library; the statue of the one eyed witch was halfway across the castle!

Okay, she thought to herself as she calmed her pace, approaching the statue. There he was, waiting for her. He waved, smiling and she waved back, before dropping her hand.

Now that she was getting nearer, she could see that there were more people standing in the shadows behind the statue. She instantly recognized Fred's twin, but squinted her eyes to make out the others as she slowly approached.

Lee, must have been there, she assumed… but the two other silhouettes looked like girls.

"You're late!" Fred whispered, winking.

"Sorry, took a while to put the books away," Carolina said, frowning at the people still hidden in the shadows. "Er… hi, George. Happy birthday," she said as Fred's twin stepped into the light of the corridor sconces.

"Wotcher, Carolina. Wicked present, by the way," George responded.

"Oh, er, thanks-I mean… you're welcome?" Carolina answered as Fred and George laughed quietly.

"Right, we should be going. Lina, you might want to leave your bag here," Fred said gesturing to her bulging book bag.

"Where are we going?" Carolina asked, suspiciously.

"Hogsmeade!" the twins said together, grinning from ear to ear.

"What? No way!" Carolina exclaimed, before remembering that they were technically breaking curfew and could be caught by anyone and lowered her voice.

"Yes way," Fred smirked, crossing his arms.

"I am not going to sneak out of the castle at… after curfew!" Carolina whispered angrily, crossing her arms to match his. "It's against the rules!"

"Oh, too bad," said one of the figures lazily. Stepping out from shadows, Carolina instantly recognized her as one of the three Gryffindor chasers-Angelina Johnson. The other silhouette then was probably her best friend, Alicia Spinnet. "Suppose we'll just have to make do without you…"

Fred shot Angelina a wary look but Carolina paid him no mind as her brain began to work itself into a frenzy. On one hand, there were rules for a reason. Sneaking outside of Hogwarts after dark was… well, dangerous. Absolutely mental! They could get caught, they could get recognized in Hogsmeade... the twins were particularly easy to spot. Umbridge could find out and Carolina could get expelled. It was all well and jolly for Fred and George; they were planning on quitting school anyways, but Carolina needed to pass her N.E.W.T.s for any kind of future occupation…

Yet, on the other hand, she didn't exactly love the idea of Fred running off to Hogsmeade with Angelina, who looked a bit too smug for her liking. And on his birthday? What if… well, what if Carolina weren't there and he felt abandoned or something and decided he liked Angelina more than her. They had gone to the Yule Ball together, after all, Carolina remembered…

She frowned, unsure of what to do.

"We don't have all night, you know," Angelina said, pursing her lips.

Carolina rolled her eyes, before sighing. "Fine. Let's go." At least it was a Saturday and she wasn't wearing her uniform, then it would have been far too easy to be spotted as students.

Fred grinned and swung his arm around her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. "I knew you'd come around," he whispered. "Here, leave your bag just around the alcove," he said, taking her book bag and dropping it with a thump where it would out of sight to anybody patrolling the corridors.

"I'm only doing this because it's your birthday," Carolina whispered back harshly.

"I'm only asking you to for the very same reason," Fred said as his lips slid into an even wider smile.

"Don't be smug, it's unbecoming," she said tersely, before adding, "where does this path lead, anyways?"

"Honeyduke's cellar! George and I found it first year…"

"Really? Then it must be a bit of a walk…"

"Yeah-but it's worth it. This is one of the only pathways out of the castle that Filch doesn't know about yet," Fred responded.

"There are others?"

"Loads more!" came George's voice from up ahead. "Though a few have caved in-and we haven't tried the one that goes through the Whomping Willow!"

"Through the Whomping Willow?" Carolina asked, her mouth agape. How was that even possible?

"Or under it, I suppose," corrected Fred.

"You know, with all of the passageways out of the castle, it's almost like the founders planned it so students could sneak out. I mean, why else would they leave six ways out when they built it?" Lee added.

"I highly doubt that they intended for students to be sneaking out after dark," Carolina said crossly. She just couldn't believe that Salazar Slytherin… or any of the other founders would have liked the idea that their students might go gallivanting around Hogsmeade after curfew.

"Well, why else would they build a passageway right to the cellar of Honeyduke's?" Lee countered.

"Maybe _they_ didn't build the passageway," Carolina argued. "In _Hogwarts, A History_ , Bathilda Bagshot explains that different wings of the castle were added on at different times-like the North Tower was only added on about 200 years ago when Phineas Nigellus was headmaster. The walls are actually a different type of stone from the rest of castle; you can tell in the texture of the-"

"Is she going to be like this all evening?" Alicia Spinnet asked George from up ahead, eliciting chuckles from everyone around her.

Carolina instantly shut her mouth, thankful for the darkness of the passageway that hid her blushing cheeks from view.

"Nah, I reckon one of the founders had a sweet tooth and that's how this passageway came to be," Fred continued, oblivious to Carolina's discomfort. "I bet it was Helga; the Hufflepuff common room is smack next to the kitchens, after all!" At this, the rest of the group burst into laughter, as Carolina nervously chuckled along.

The topic of conversation soon changed to the Gryffindor quidditch team-or more accurately, how abysmal the team was doing now without the twins and how unlikely it was that they would win the house cup.

Carolina felt particularly awkward at this point, having nothing at all to contribute to the conversation. It was true, she hadn't known Gryffindor to play so badly since… well, she couldn't remember a time… maybe her first year, when Slytherin had won the cup. But, if she told them the truth, well, that wouldn't be good; they would probably just start going in on her house and her team. On the other hand, if she voiced support for the team, they would easily be able to tell that she was lying and probably go in on Slytherin anyways. So, she kept her mouth shut, and looked down at her feet as they plodded on, one foot after another.

Soon enough, Fred was quietly pulling her through a trapdoor, before sealing it behind them.

Carolina looked around and indeed, they were in the cellars of Honeyduke's. There were barrels of licorice wands and boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans stacked high up to the ceiling.

"How are we going to get out? Aren't they closed?" Carolina whispered as the group started ascending the stairs.

"Back door," George whispered in response.

Carolina followed the queue into the darkened store, then behind the desk and into the back room, where a run down, wooden door stood crooked on its hinges.

"Alohamora," whispered Angelina, the first to reach it. They heard a silent 'click' and Angelina grasped the doorknob, swinging it open easily.

Finally outside, the group began to talk again as they made their way from the back alley to the main street of Hogsmeade Village.

"Well, where to?" Carolina asked, looking around. She had never been to the village at night… it was bustling; perhaps due to the fact that it was indeed a Saturday night and the only all-wizard town in Britain.

"The Three Broomsticks, right boys?" Angelina said, giving Carolina the impression that this wasn't the Gryffindors' first times out of the castle after dark.

"You read my mind!" Fred grinned.

"Right, Madam Rosmerta'll recognize us," George said, gesturing to him and his brother as they approached the pub. "So we'll grab a booth and the rest of you can get drinks?"

"Why would she recognize you?" Carolina asked, quirking her head to the side.

Fred shrugged, before winking. "Maybe you're not the only one with a thing for redheads…"

Carolina's eyes widened. "You-you and Madam Rosmerta?"

At her expression, Fred burst out laughing. "Nah, I'm only joking. But she's not too fond of George and me. We brought Peeves in once and well, they didn't get on."

"That's putting it mildly," Angelina scoffed, rolling her eyes and Carolina felt a twinge in her stomach. These Gryffindors… they had been friends for years and had all these stories, all this history together. How could she, Carolina, a Slytherin, who'd only _really_ started getting to know Fred in the past few months, compare to someone that had been friends with the twins for nearly seven years?

"Right! Drinks!" Lee called over them. "Help me carry them, ladies!" And Carolina obediently walked over to the bar, squeezing her way through the wizards and witches that crowded the space. "First round's on me!" Lee yelled out, as Madam Rosmerta continued pouring butterbeer into the glasses. "Here, Carolina, take these two!"

Lee handed the flagons to her wildly, and the golden liquid splashed over the edge as she tried to balance them. "Yeah, alright…"

She walked to the table that the twins had found in the back careful not to spill any more of the drinks.

"What's in there?" Carolina asked as she placed the drinks on the table and scooted in next to Fred, for the first time noticing that George had brought a small bag with him.

"Nothing you need to worry about now," Fred responded, sliding his arm around her waist.

Carolina raised her eyebrows but decided to drop it as Angelina came over to the table with two pints as well, sliding in next to George and handing one to him.

"Merlin's cup?" Angelina asked, pulling a deck of exploding snap cards from her pocket as Alicia squeezed in next to her with another two flagons and Lee next to Carolina, with what looked like six full glasses of firewhiskey.

"Er, what's that?" Carolina asked, eying the deck of cards.

"Bloody hell, you've never played?" Alicia snickered. "What do Slytherins do in their common room anyways?"

"It's a drinking game," Fred interrupted. "It's kind of like exploding snap but each card essentially has a rule and if you don't follow the rule, you have to drink-and we all have to drink when one explodes…"

"Hm," Carolina frowned, uncertain of whether this would be a smart idea or not. She obviously wouldn't be very good, seeing as she didn't know the rules.

"Right, deal us out!" George said, before beginning to explain what each card signified to Carolina who was only able to hear about half of the rules, so loud was the din of the pub.

"Birthday boys, why don't you go first," Angelina smiled.

Fred reached out and grabbed the first card, pulling it up to his face, before smirking. "Ah, six, ladies drink!" he said, before slamming the card back onto the table.

Carolina watched for a moment as Angelina and Alicia took hearty sips of their firewhiskey, before catching Fred's eye. She quickly brought her glass to her lips, blushing, before coughing. Firewhiskey was much harder to drink than butterbeer.

"Ooh, Merlin!" George said enthusiastically, having drawn his card. "Make a rule… let's see… Every time you drink you have to… hm, yodel?"

"I am not yodeling," said Alicia flatly and Carolina heartily agreed with her.

"Well, if you don't want to yodel, you can take two drinks," George shot back

Alicia rolled her eyes in response as Angelina drew a card. "Two! You can drink, Fred," she said, smiling devilishly at the boy on Carolina's left.

"Cheers!" Fred said, before letting out a disturbingly high pitched yodel and taking a large gulp of firewhiskey.

"My turn!" Alicia said enthusiastically, before picking up her card. "Oh, ten! Never have I ever…" she trailed off, thinking.

Carolina looked to Fred questioningly for help.

"If you've done it, you drink," Fred whispered in her ear casually.

Finally, Alicia spoke again, smirking. "Never have I ever gotten a leg over in the quidditch changing rooms."

Carolina's eyes widened as she looked around the table. She felt her mouth drop open slightly as both Fred and Angelina drank, warranting a cackle from Alicia.

"Oy, that was uncalled for!" George protested eyeing Carolina, as she bit her lip, looking anywhere but at Fred.

Alicia merely shrugged. "What, jealous Fred's gotten some and you haven't?"

"That's beside the point!" George responded, though Carolina wished he would just drop it. She suddenly wasn't sure that she had made the right decision in coming out with them. She didn't want to know about Fred hooking up with Angelina in the quidditch changing rooms… and she hoped he didn't expect her to do that.

She chanced a glance at Fred, who was looking at her, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if to ask if Carolina was okay.

She quickly averted her eyes, feeling even more uncomfortable than she thought humanly possible.

"Right, three," said Lee, breaking the tension around the table. "I suppose that's me," he finished, taking a sip from his firewhiskey.

"Carolina?" Angelina said, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, er, right," Carolina muttered, having forgotten that she was next. She grabbed the nearest card and lifted it up. "Circe?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I forgot what to do with this one…"

"It's categories," explained Fred.

"You name a category of something and whoever can't think of one has to drink," George added on.

"Right," Carolina said, before an idea popped into her head. "How about Hogwarts Headmasters?"

"Oh, bloody hell," groaned Angelina. "I might as well just start drinking now."

"Right, you first, Fred," Lee said, ignoring Angelina's complaint.

"Dumbledore, obviously," Fred smirked at having chosen the easiest answer.

"Dippet," George said afterwards, before turning to Angelina.

"Hm, well I suppose Umbridge is now; does that count?" she asked the table. They all nodded solemnly in response.

"I give up!" Alicia exhaled, throwing her hands up and quickly taking a large gulp of firewhiskey.

"That's good for me-I would have been stuck too," Lee said chuckling.

"Really?" Carolina asked, feeling slightly astonished. _Hogwarts, A History_ had been required reading for all of them. The fact that they couldn't name any other headmasters or headmistresses was rather surprising.

"Oh, and you wouldn't have?" Angelina asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I wouldn't challenge her on this," Fred warned as Carolina felt a lightning bolt of pride flash within her.

"If I can name more than twenty… you all have to drink," Carolina said, a smirk toying at her lips.

"Twenty? Ha!" Angelina replied. "Sure, go ahead!"

"Phineas Nigellus Black, Walter Aragon, Dilys Derwent, Elizabeth Burke, Amrose Swott, Juniper Everard, Brian Gagwilde, Antonia Creaseworthy, Heliotrope Wilkins, Quentin Trimble, Edessa Skandenberg, Fytherley Underclyffe, Vindictus Viridian, Phyllida Spore, Eupraxia Mole, Basil Fronsac, Dexter Fortescue, Cassiopeia Monaghan, Patricia Limebert, Vladimir Vulpus and Brutus Scrimgeour," Carolina said proudly. "That's 21. I could keep going…"

"Nope!" George said, holding up his hands. "I think you've made your point. Also… no one except for Fred has been yodeling," he added crossly.

"That's because that's a bollocks rule, mate," said Lee amusedly.

"Well, a rule is a rule," George responded. He smiled, then let out a yodel and took a sip, before looking expectantly at the others. They all followed suit, except for Fred, who was staring intensely at Carolina. He leaned in.

"That was impressive." Lina felt Fred's hot breath whisper into her ear and she felt her face immediately grow warm. "I didn't know dating an encyclopedia would turn me on so much…" he said even lower; his tone sent ripples up Carolina's spine, and she quickly took a sip of her butterbeer.

Carolina felt his hand that was wrapped around her side casually sneak it's way up under her shirt so that it was resting on her bare skin, just above her hip.

She wasn't sure how she felt about it all… she certainly liked when he would hold her when they were alone in some deserted section of the library but, at a table with his friends? And his-well, she wasn't sure what Angelina was to him; an ex-girlfriend? An ex-fling?-whatever she was, she was glaring daggers at Carolina.

"Oy, brother, dear!" George called out, and Fred quickly looked up. "Your turn again!"

"Eight," Fred said slowly, drawing his card. "Mate. Lina, I'm picking you."

"What?" Carolina asked, confused.

"You have to drink whenever I drink," Fred explained, grinning.

"Bollocks," Carolina scowled.

"Merlin, I picked eight too," George said, holding up his most recent card which indeed had an eight on it. "Well, Fred, happy birthday, mate!"

Fred smirked, before turning back to Carolina. "Now, whenever George drinks, I have to drink, and whenever I drink, you have to drink, so you have to drink whenever George drinks too!" he said quickly.

"Pardon?" Carolina asked, furrowing her brow and eliciting laughter from the others seated around the table.

A few rounds of Merlin's Cup, and one explosion later, Carolina was feeling mildly more comfortable with the group of Gryffindors, though perhaps that was due to the firewhiskey and two butterbeers she had inhaled.

"Right, birthday boys, this round's on me," she chirped, noticing that the others had all finished their drinks, despite hers only being half empty, before shuffling past Lee.

"I'll help you carry them!" Fred called, excusing himself and pushing through the crowd to reach her at the bar.

"Five butterbeers, please!" Carolina called, waving at Madam Rosmerta, who nodded in understanding, before setting about to fill their pints.

Carolina turned to Fred who had just caught up with her, squeezing himself in next to her at the bar.

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Fred's mouth on hers.

His lips were warm, though more rushed than usual, and his hands were clinging to her tightly and his breath on her mouth tingled with firewhiskey.

He pulled away, his mouth open and breathing heavy. "I've wanted to do that all evening," he groaned, resting his forehead against hers.

Carolina smirked. "Because I can name all of the headmasters?"

Fred let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "That's right… Say Dylis Derwent again…"

Carolina burst out laughing, as Fred grinned in reply, admiring how her eyes crinkled shut when she smiled.

"Hey! You!" Carolina heard, as she quickly swivelled her head around to seek the voice. No sooner than she did, then Fred's head ducked down below the bar, and a good thing too, because Madam Rosmerta was looking mighty mad.

"Who was that you were just with?" she asked accusingly.

"I wasn't with anyone," Carolina lied haughtily.

"I thought I saw a Weasley," Madam Rosmerta frowned. "How old are you anyway?" She squinted her eyes.

"19," Carolina replied, trying her hardest to look nonplussed, annoyed even, as if she wasn't used to being asked that question.

"Hmm," Madam Rosmerta responded, her eyes darting out across the bar, as if expecting to see the tuft of red hair suddenly appear from thin air. "That'll be two galleons."

Carolina quickly handed over the money, before whipping out her wand and levitating the drinks back to the table. So much for Fred's help.

Upon returning, she told the others about the barkeep's suspicion, and they all agreed that this would be their last drink.

"Right, George and I have a surprise for you all," Fred said, after slamming his empty flagon onto the table.

"Just a little preview of what's to come," George added.

"Shuffle out, you all," Fred said, shaking his fingers to push them out of the booth, before grabbing the bag George had been carrying.

Once they had all pushed their way out of the pub, the group reconvened.

"Right, what's this surprise, then?" Alicia deadpanned.

Carolina wrapped her sweater tightly around her shoulders. Wasn't alcohol supposed to keep one warmer?

"You'll see," George winked.

"Follow us," Fred said, leading them back down the main street of Hogsmeade. They turned off the road a few cottages down and Carolina recognized it as the same route he had taken her when they had come to village together, though there wasn't any snow on the ground anymore.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the Shrieking Shack came into view.

"Fred, if you make us go in there I will personally cut your bollocks off," Angelina said, halting and crossing her arms.

"There'll be no violence tonight," George cut in quickly with a chuckle at Fred's scandalized face. "Keep going, you lot."

Soon enough, they were standing at the lookout and Carolina's breath was taken away for the second time as she stared out across the lake at the shadow of the castle in the distance; tiny spots of yellow shimmered out into the night where the torches were still lit.

"Ready, Fred?" George asked. Carolina and the others had been too busy admiring the view to notice that the twins had removed whatever had been in their pack, but Carolina eyed the strange cylinder in their hands.

"Ready, George!" Fred responded, before flicking his wand to ignite a flame at the tip. "You all should be very excited. You're about to witness our newest product!" he grinned, bringing the flame to the cylinder. The flame sparked a moment, before Fred swished his wand again, and it went out. Then, he frantically tossed the cylinder into the air as high as he could.

Suddenly, a huge boom erupted through the forest around them and Carolina jumped, watching, awestruck as whatever Fred had thrown exploded into a million dazzling crystals of light that gradually trickled down to the ground.

"Whizzbangs!" George yelled enthusiastically, before tossing his into the air as well.

There were gasps of awe as his exploded into tiny blue sparkles.

"Right, we have enough for everyone," Fred said, grabbing a few more of them from the bag and tossing them around.

"Right on!" Lee called, catching the first one.

As Carolina caught hers, she couldn't help but wonder if this was what he had done all day. When he had said he already had an idea for how to use the erumpent horn, was this what he had in mind? If so, it was rather impressive that they had invented the whizzbangs in only a day's time!

"All together?" Angelina called, grinning.

"Hell yeah!" George responded. "Right, light your wands!" Carolina complied, though she was nervous if these whizzbangs indeed contain erumpent horn. "One, two, three, light and let them go!" he said, tossing his into the night sky.

"Wow," Carolina gasped as all of their whizzbangs exploded in unison, forming different shapes and colors above them.

"Impressed?" Fred asked, smirking as he sidled up to her.

Carolina nodded. "They're beautiful."

"Glad you like them," he said, wrapping his arm around her. "They still need a bit of work. Don't last long enough for our taste… and George is worried about the ignition charm backfiring and that they might explode in our customers faces… but we're close."

Carolina smiled up at him. "I love them."

"Well, we wouldn't have made them without the powdered erumpent horn, so really, they're your doing," Fred grinned back, his eyes twinkling in the starlight.

"Hardly," Carolina laughed. "I would never have thought to do this."

"Oy!" Lee interrupted. "You two! I didn't drink enough firewhiskey to be standing out here in the cold this long!"

"Seconded," Alicia said, shivering.

"Right. Back to Honeyduke's?" George offered as they began to leave the overlook.

As they walked, Fred's hand moved down from Carolina's shoulders to find her hand, squeezing it tightly as if to ward off the cold.

The walk back was long and Carolina found herself content to merely observe the others, only chiming in when Fred asked her a question.

But, the night hadn't been nearly as horrible as she had imagined it to turn out. They hadn't been caught despite the close call with Madam Rosmerta, and Fred's friends had been-while not outright amicable, generally welcoming, she supposed. In fact, Angelina and Alicia seemed much more agreeable than Carolina's own roommates-though she could see that they didn't particularly like her yet. Still, after the first few drinks, their guards had come down somewhat and had including Carolina as they teased the boys.

They quietly snuck through the alleyway and into the backroom of Honeyduke's, before tiptoeing silently down the stairs. George pulled open the trapdoor, and they all climbed down through the floorboards.

Once inside the tunnel back to the castle, Carolina breathed a sigh of relief at completing her first escapade into Hogsmeade. As she watched Fred and George roughhousing up ahead, causing Alicia, Lee and Angelina to cackle with mirth, she realized that had she still been Head Girl still, she probably would never have gone along with them. She could not in good conscious have permitted herself to risk getting her badge taken away, but seeing as it already had been-she had felt minimal remorse…

Carolina smiled, feeling quietly thankful that she got to experience this with Fred before he left and before she graduated… even if it meant that she would have a harder time applying for jobs after the abrogation of her status as Head Girl.

But oh! She paused for a moment mid-step, before continuing. If she accepted Snape's offer to work for Amelia, it wouldn't matter that she was no longer Head Girl…

And, if she accepted his offer, not only would she not have to worry about that, but she'd be working for the Order of the Phoenix… and subsequently working towards a world in which Fred's family would be safe, where his father wouldn't end up in the hospital, where Lee Jordan-one of the funniest boys and a muggleborn-would be safe, where Marcus wouldn't call Fred a bloodtraitor…

As she gazed at his grinning face, listened to his bright laugh, watched his bony elbows darting into his brother's side, her decision seemed so easy. There was no other option.

Then, just as swiftly as that realization had struck her, another one came. Professor Snape had made her promise not to tell anyone, and Carolina felt a heavy sadness fall over her.

She wouldn't be able to tell Fred about what she was doing… she'd have to lie to him. Lie to him about her work for Amelia, lie to him about where she was going when she was reporting to the order, lie to him, lie to him, lie to him…

"You alright?" Fred said, having paused, waiting for her to catch back up to the group.

"Yeah," Carolina shrugged, not able to meet his eyes, her mind swimming.

"You don't seem alright," he contradicted as they approached the entrance to the secret passageway.

"It's nothing," Carolina answered, trying to smile brightly up at him.

"Are you still worried about being caught?" he asked.

"Er, yeah," Carolina lied, trying to look bashful.

"Listen, we've made it this far, and if anything, Filch is more likely to catch us," Fred gestured to the rest of the Gryffindors, "than you walking back to the dungeons all alone… unless you want to come back to the common room with us," he finished, smirking.

"Not tonight," Carolina responded, rolling her eyes.

"Not tonight?" Fred said excitedly. "Does that mean you'll come a different night?"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," Carolina laughed quietly.

"Too late-already way up!" Fred grinned, before leaning down and kissing her square on the mouth.

Carolina wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tightly to her. She didn't know what to feel about her predicament… the only thing she knew for certain was that she cared for him… that she loved his jokes and wit, his childish energy, his intuitive and curious mind, his messy red hair, his muscular beater's arms, the stubble along his jaw…

Too soon for her liking, Fred pulled away. "We should head back," he said sadly as he stepped out from behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. "Good night," he shrugged, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Night, Fred. I lo-" her eyes bulged. Was she really just about to say that out loud? She quickly changed her route: "I loved hanging out with you all-had a really good time. I'm glad I came."

Fred swooped her up into a hug, nearly bringing her toes off the ground. She quickly reciprocated, tossing her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm glad you came too," his whispered in her ear.

"Happy birthday," she whispered back, before kissing him again.

The night air in the castle corridors was cool and Carolina was grateful that she didn't run into anybody on her return to the dungeons. Yet as she walked down staircase after staircase, her mind reeled. Was that how she felt for him? Did she love him? She didn't know what to make of the feelings fluttering about inside of her. And what did he feel? Was it the same?

As she fell down into her plush sheets and comfy bed, Carolina felt entirely thankful that the butterbeer and firewhiskey combination seemed to be making her more tired than she normally would have been and she easily drifted into a peaceful sleep, Fred's face swimming before her eyes in her dreams.

* * *

Carolina knocked, cringing at the noise of her knuckles against the wooden door. She wasn't sure she'd ever had a headache this bad, and it hadn't helped that she'd been rudely woken up that morning by Abigail prodding her and asking if she could borrow Carolina's dragonhide belt.

"Come in…?" Professor Snape's voice rang out.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir," Carolina said, her voice crackly with sleep still, though she was glad she was here. She had awoken this morning with her mind set. She knew what she wanted to do, and if felt like she had always known.

"It is no disturbance, Carolina… Though I assume this is pertaining to my proposition?"

"It is, sir," Carolina responded bravely. "I've decided. I want to go through with it. Work for Madam Bones and the Order of the Phoenix."

Snape's lips, usually presenting themselves in a dour frown, turned up at the corners proudly. "This is good to hear; I will write to Dumbledore immediately." He drew out a piece of parchment from the top drawer of his desk, picked up a quill, before pausing.

"You may go to breakfast, Carolina. Either I or Professor Dumbledore will contact you about your next steps."

"Thank you, sir," Carolina said, nodding, before turning on her heel. So what if she had to lie to her parents, her friends and Fred about her job… this was more important than that, wasn't it?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Wow, another long chapter.. Hope you all enjoyed reading it. I had a good time writing the "Merlin's Cup" bit... maybe not entirely necessary plot-wise but I love King's Cup haha! Let me know in the reviews how you're feeling about Carolina and Fred's relationship! And what do you think of her decision? And her realizations? As always, thank you all so much for the many reviews you have been leaving lately. Makes me so happy. :-)_

 _Also, I won't be posting any new chapters until after the New Year. Sorry, I will be working and traveling! But have a lovely holiday season everyone! See you in 2019!_


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter Thirty-seven**

* * *

"What if-what if something's happened to him? What if he's breaking up with me?" squealed Delia amidst tears as she dived head first into the pile of pillows on her four-poster bed.

"Maybe he just went home for the Easter Holidays and forgot to tell you?" Carolina offered, rubbing her temples; Delia had been going on about Graham for the past two hours and Carolina had developed a dull ache in the back of her head. It was making studying for her Muggle Studies N.E.W.T. near impossible.

"He would have told me," wailed Delia. "And he was here for the feast two nights ago! Oh, I'm sure he's breaking up with me!" she exclaimed, followed by another round of sobs.

"No, Dels, don't think that," Abigail cooed, patting her best friend's back with a seemingly endless supply of patience. "Why would he want to break up with you?"

"He thinks I'm ugly," Delia yowled and Carolina cringed at the noise. This was useless. She needed to get out of her dorm room if she wanted to commit to memory anything other than the first line of her notes.

She sighed, packing up her bag. She wasn't welcome to study in the Slytherin common room anymore unless she wanted to have a near constant stream of rolled up balls of parchment thrown at the back of her head and Adrian and Miles had taken over her spot in the library, glaring at her whenever she went to look for a table, so she had taken to studying in her dorm room, usually able to tune out the low murmurs coming from Abigail and Delia's gossipping mouths… but not today.

"Where are you going?" Delia nearly yelled at her, lifting her head from out of her pillows. Her face was swollen and her eyes bloodshot.

"I thought I might ask Professor Snape about Graham on your behalf," Carolina lied easily.

"Oh, would you?" Delia asked, sniffing affectedly.

"Sure," Carolina said, rolling her eyes as she turned to the door. Delia was making such a big deal about Graham's absence and she hadn't even asked their head of house yet if maybe he had indeed gone home for the holidays? She had never been the brightest…

But as Carolina hastened through the common room and out the portrait hole, her mind drew a blank of where to go.

It was too windy to study out on the lawn-her notes might blow away-and Umbridge had forbidden students for using the Great Hall for anything but eating…

She walked up from the dungeons, intent on finding an empty classroom and wishing that she was brave enough to prance right into the Gryffindor common room and find Fred-though then she probably wouldn't get much studying done-when an idea popped into her head.

The Room of Requirement!

That was a perfect idea, she thought proudly; the room would probably provide a desk and a lamp and all of the reference books she might need about muggle technology!

She smiled at her own ingenuity, skipping up the remaining staircases to the seventh floor.

When she got to the blank stretch of wall, she closed her eyes and started pacing. _I need a place to work, I need a place to work, I need…_ She opened her eyes. A wooden door-just like one to any classroom-had appeared just in front of her.

She gladly reached out her hand and pulled it open.

"Occupied! Oh, Carolina?" It was George who turned to look at her first, though Fred's head spun around quick as lightning at the mention of her name.

"Lina! What are you doing here?" he asked, jumping to his feet.

"Needed a place to study," Carolina said, hitching her bag up on her shoulder. "What are you two doing?" she asked, eying the mess around where they had been sitting. There were what appeared to be burn marks on the floor and scattered potions ingredients and now that Carolina looked closely, both Fred and his twin were wearing dragonhide gloves…

"Perfecting the whizzbangs," Fred smirked, walking up to her and stripping the gloves off his fingers. "Want to join?"

"Well, I really should be studying-we have to know how to start an automobile for our Muggle Studies N.E.W.T. and I don't have any idea where-"

"Oh, perfect!" Fred exclaimed, grabbing her hand and pulling her closer. "George and I have driven a car!"

"What? Really?" Carolina asked, impressed.

"Yeah, well it was our dad's and it was a flying car, but made from muggle parts, so I reckon it worked the same," he smirked at Carolina's amazed expression. "So how about it? Stay here with us?" he pulled her closer and Carolina sighed, a smile toying at her lips.

"Come on, you convinced me to stay through the Easter Holidays-you might as well spend them with me…" Fred whispered, grinning.

"Fine, fine," Carolina said, dropping her bag from her shoulder. He was right after all, they only had about five more days until the Twins' agreed upon departure date.

"Ace!" Fred exclaimed, pulling Carolina in for a kiss, to which she responded enthusiastically.

"Oy! This isn't a bloody broom cupboard!" George yelled, interrupting them with a scowl.

"Sorry mate," Fred responded, breaking off the kiss and smiling cheesily at his brother, pulling Carolina over to where they had been working. "So, library not up to your liking today?" he asked, addressing Carolina as she sat down next to him, her book bag in tow.

"Adrian and Miles are camped out there and Delia's gone off her rocker about Graham disappearing-"

"Hasn't turned up then, has he?" George intercut, smirking.

"No, and apparently he never said he was going home for the holidays-wait a minute! How did you know he was missing?"

"Well, you just told us, didn't you?" George replied casually.

"No-it sounded like you already knew…" Carolina eyed him suspiciously.

"I may have pushed him into the vanishing cabinet on the first floor," Fred muttered, examining the fire salamander tail he had been dissecting before Carolina's arrival.

"You did what?!" Carolina yelled.

"Well, to be fair, he was trying to take points away from us-getting a little too power hungry with this new Inquisitorial Squad bollocks," George said, defending Fred.

"And I'm sure you did something to deserve getting points docked," Carolina eyed them sourly, despite the fact that she had noticed the newfound Inquisitorial Squad far too often enjoyed abusing their powers.

"No!" Fred said defensively, looking up from the salamander tail. "He got what he deserved," he added darkly.

Carolina turned to George with a raised eyebrow, searching for an explanation.

"He was saying some nasty things about you, actually," George told her. "All about how you're shacking up with a blood traitor, about your mother's howler, called you a few names that I don't think you'd want repeated, so Fred here told him where he could shove it and he threatened to dock fifty points for lip so-"

"So we pushed him into the vanishing cabinet," Fred finished, raising his eyebrows as if daring Carolina to be mad at them still.

"I don't need you to defend me," she told them, sighing, though she was touched that he cared as much as he did.

"I know," Fred responded. "I reckon you're able to take care of yourself what with all the D.A. practice, but when you're not around, someone's got to defend your honor!" he added, flashing her a valiant smile.

Carolina chuckled. "I suppose…" she said, before an expression of worry overcame her face. "So he's inside the vanishing cabinet? Can he get out?"

"We thought he'd be able to-it's broken after all," George said thoughtfully.

"Though, if he hasn't returned, then probably not," Fred added, a devilish grin appearing on his face.

"Hm," Carolina frowned, making a mental note to actually notify Professor Snape of Montague's whereabouts.

"In the meantime, why don't I tell you about the time George and I flew a muggle car across England," Fred said, leaning back in his chair.

By the time the twins had finished with their story, adding interludes to answer Carolina's questions about the different gears and how the engine worked, and then details about how Harry and Ron had crashed the car into the Whomping Willow, only to find the vehicle alive and thriving in the Forbidden Forest three years ago, some time had passed and the afternoon was almost over.

"Bugger, is that the time?" Fred said, looking down at his watch. "I have my bloody careers meeting with McGonagall."

"Useful," George hummed, before adding on "mine's tomorrow first thing… don't know what she expects with scheduling separate meetings for us…"

"I'll be back in fifteen," Fred said, stowing his wand in his back pocket.

"That short?" Carolina queried.

Fred shrugged, "We've already found a storefront for the shop. There's not much she can advise us on, though maybe she'll want to pre-order some products…"

"Right…" Carolina said, unconvinced as Fred swaggered out the door, before turning back down to her notes on muggle automobiles.

She paused, suddenly realizing that she was now alone with George for the first time… Fred had always been there.

She peaked up from her notes, observing him. He was copying down what looked to be an ingredients list for a longevity potion.

"Is that to make the whizzbangs last longer?" Carolina asked curiously.

"Yeah…" George mumbled, not looking up.

"I don't think you'd want to add any of those ingredients-they're mostly wet ones and would counteract the powdered erumpent horn which is most explosive when it's dry."

"Do you have a better idea, then?" George snarled, finally meeting her eyes.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Carolina said proudly.

George raised his eyebrows. "And are you going to tell it to me?"

"A gemini charm," Carolina said simply, before expanding upon it after George gave her a confused look. "You want to create a reactionary gemini charm, something that is triggered whenever anyone tries to stop them from going off."

George's mouth formed a slight 'o' shape. "Like say, if you hit one of them with a vanishing charm-"

"It would act as a gemini charm, yes, so that the more someone wants them to stop, the more whizzbangs there are."

"That's bloody genius!" George cheered.

Carolina smirked. "I know."

"Now I know why Fred keeps you around," he joked.

"Among other reasons," she said smugly.

"Nope! Don't want to hear about that!" George exclaimed, waving his hands and causing Carolina to burst out laughing.

"Right you are!" she agreed, smiling at him. Fred's twin was much easier to get along with than she first thought.

"You have any idea on how to get them to form shapes? Like animals or objects?" George asked excitedly.

Carolina thought for a moment. "I suppose an avifors charm would turn it into a bird, or caninus into a dog… actually, I imagine that the theory behind inanimate-into-animate transfiguration would apply-"

"Right, let me get this down," George said, pulling out his quill and quickly scribbling onto the parchment in front of him, before looking up at Carolina expectantly. "Well, don't stop there!" he said, amusement in his eyes.

Carolina grinned back at him, appreciating that he was taking her thoughts so seriously.

* * *

The following four days sped by in a blur, much faster than Carolina would have liked them to. While she attempted to stay on top of her N.E.W.T. studying schedule, Fred's imminent departure made it difficult to do so. Instead, she barely got an hour or two of study in each morning, before joining the twins in the Room of Requirement where they would collectively work on what the boys were now calling 'Weasley's Wildfire Whizzbangs,' as they had managed to turn the small explosions into something gigantic.

Delia was still moping around about Graham's disappearance, making staying in the dormitory practically unbearable, so Carolina yielded almost all her time to the company of her boyfriend; if anything, for the first time in her life, she was rather enjoying forgoing her studies.

After spending the first day with them, she had decided to hold off on notifying Snape about the vanishing cabinet, knowing that the Potions Professor would ask her how she had found out and she'd have no choice but to reveal the twins' involvement or face the suspicion that _she_ had put Graham in the cabinet. She didn't want Fred (or George) to receive any more detentions on their final days in the castle, preferring that Fred spend his evenings with her.

And those evenings were probably her favorites of any of their time together…

When they'd get hungry after brainstorming and testing the whizzbangs, George would head over to the Great Hall for dinner and Fred and Carolina would sneak away to the kitchens, before gallivanting off to their favorite hidden alcoves, staying up past curfew and exploring each other with desperate abandon.

In fact, the approaching deadline of Fred's departure made Carolina even more certain of the emotions she had felt on his birthday. She hadn't mentioned any of it to him, of course, but she could feel it bubbling up inside of her…

She wanted him to know how she felt, to understand how much she cared for him, how much she… loved him.

At night, she would practice saying it, casting a silencing charm around the curtains of her four poster bed and whispering it into her pillow with her eyes closed. " _I love you."_

She felt ridiculous, but she supposed that was how one was supposed to feel at times like this.

So, by the twins' last day, all of the pressure to make him understand how she felt had been stewing inside of her, making it near impossible to focus on anything besides being in his presence. She knew she had to let him know someway, somehow before he left… but she didn't know exactly how. And she wasn't sure she could say it to him without knowing that he felt the same way… she didn't know if she could handle the shame if he… She took a breath in, unable to finish the thought.

"You alright, Lina?" came Fred's voice from beside her. He must have noticed her slip into her thoughts yet again.

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head, attempting to focus on the task in front of her: adding the finishing colors to the whizzbangs, "yeah."

"I can't believe you bastards are leaving tomorrow," groaned Lee, having joined them on their final day at school.

Carolina nodded hesitantly in agreement, unable to fully articulate her thoughts on the matter.

Not only was she devastated to be apart from Fred, but she found that she quite enjoyed George's company and would be missing him as well.

Fred flashed her a worried glance, while George carried on the conversation: "Me neither-and to think, I'll leave this place without ever getting to see the giant squid."

Carolina snorted, the comment having broken her away from her reverie. "You've never seen the giant squid?"

George shook his head in response.

"He swims by the Slytherin common room all the time," she said, astounded. "You've both seen it, right?" she asked, turning from Fred to Lee.

"Yep," Fred said as Lee nodded.

"Are you blind? If you just sit on the lawn for ten minutes you're near guaranteed to see a tentacle or two…" she said incredulously.

"Oy, no need to be rude on my last day!" George shot back, grinning.

"I would have liked to have slipped a dungbomb into Mrs. Norris's cat food," Fred said wistfully, causing the three other occupants of the room to burst out laughing.

"Well, you two can't say you haven't taken advantage of all that the castle has to offer," Lee said reasonably after the laughter had calmed down.

"True…" George sighed.

"Wait a minute," Fred said turning to Carolina, "back in February-when we went to Hogsmeade-you said there was someplace in the castle that I didn't know about!"

"Did I?" Carolina asked, trying to recall their conversation. "Oh!" she yelped, suddenly remembering. "Yeah… I think so, well you might know about it, but I doubt you've ever been," she said, an idea emerging in her head as she turned towards Fred's curious face.

"Really?" he asked, curiosity present in his voice.

"Yup," Carolina said, smirking and leaning closer to him on her elbows.

"And you're not going to tell me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows slightly and leaning towards her too.

"I could show you," she said, trying to sound as seductive as she could, despite the sudden rush of what felt like a million bees zooming around in her stomach.

George scoffed. "And I reckon you only want to show Fred this mystery place, even though it's my last day too," he said crossly, despite the laughter in his voice.

"Oh, sod off," Fred muttered, eyeing Carolina wolfishly as she leaned back innocently in her chair.

"I reckon it's almost dinner time," Lee said, his eyes darting between Carolina and Fred awkwardly.

"Yeah, we'll see you two later," George said, standing up and pushing his chair in. Lee followed, and soon enough, Carolina and Fred were alone.

Carolina took a breath in. The way he was looking at her made her nervous and excited at the same time.

"There really is a place, you know," she said, adjusting the collar of her shirt which suddenly felt far too tight around her neck.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Lead the way," Fred said, making to get up from his chair. He held the door open for her and her heart raced at the thought of where she was leading him.

They walked in silence down the empty corridors and Carolina felt a heightened awareness of the distance between their bodies-the few centimeters between their hands swinging side by side, the uneven paces of their footsteps.

They descended two flights of stairs, before approaching the statue of Boris the Bewildered.

As they walked towards the fourth door to the left of the statue, Carolina had a sudden moment of panic; what if Umbridge had changed the password when she had become headmistress? It seemed like a relatively banal, easily overlooked detail, but it was possible that the High Inquisitor had indeed ensured that _all_ of Carolina's privileges had been stripped.

Still, it was worth a try…

"You're really not going to tell me where we're going?" Fred asked as they stood in front of the door.

"It's how I avoided your bloody lizard skin prank last year," Carolina said, eying him casually

"Really? I did always wonder how you did that…"

"Citrus rose," Carolina said in a hushed whisper, ignoring him. She heard a click as the door unlocked itself.

As she turned the doorknob, she could almost hear the blood rushing in her ears, her heart pumping overtime, producing the nervous energy that was sprinting through her body.

Hesitantly, she pushed it open, revealing the cream tiled floors and high stained glass windows of the prefects' bathroom.

As she stepped in and inhaled, the soothing scent of the oils helped to calm her nerves. This was what she wanted, even if it felt like it was light-years out of her comfort zone.

"Welcome to the prefects' bathroom, Fred," she said, turning and smiling at him.

Fred's wolfish grin expanded as he took in the room. "I can't believe you waited until my last bloody night here to show this to me! And to think, I was taking cold showers after Kenneth bloody Trowler used all the hot water just yesterday morning!" he said, walking over and inspecting the many faucets that lined the swimming pool sized bathtub.

Carolina shut and locked the door, then walked over and joined him, before turning the faucets on.

"Wait a second! You're not Head Girl, anymore…" Fred continued, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think you're allowed to be using this place… Isn't there something about that in the prefect code book?" he winked, mocking her.

"Well, I figure coming here pales in comparison to sneaking out of the castle late at night!" Carolina argued back as the tub began to fill.

"You seem to have lost your evasion to rule breaking," Fred responded. "Hang on, are you running a bath?"

Carolina nervously ignored his question, preferring to respond to his first statement. "Well, as Ulick Gamp put it in his journals, when the entire system has been corrupted by tyrannical, hegemonic powers, breaking the rules becomes the moral imperative of the civilian," she mumbled, blushing.

"What?" Fred asked, looking a little lost with his mouth agape.

"Or, I suppose, you've been a horrible influence on me," Carolina amended, adding a coquettishly smile despite the fact that the bees were still swirling busily through her insides.

"Horrible? I take offense to that!" Fred said, but once again Carolina ignored him.

She found it easier to focus on the task at hand-unbuttoning her blouse, if she wasn't trying to come up with a witty remark to satiate him.

Quickly, despite her shaking fingers, the blouse was off, and the skirt and tights and mary-janes soon followed so that she was only in her knickers and bra, and without looking at Fred, she stepped into the near-overflowing tub.

"Well, are you coming in?" she asked, finally turning to face the redhead who had an expression of utter shock written across his face.

"Blimey, Lina," she heard Fred whisper, before he hastily tried to rip off all his clothes at once.

Carolina felt a smile form on her cheeks as she watched him nearly trip over his own trousers when he tried to pull them off, before stepping deeper into the water. She didn't know from where this sudden bout of fearlessness was coming; all she knew that she didn't want him to leave tomorrow…

Finally, a rather flustered Fred, in only his boxers, lowered himself into the pool across from her. Carolina found herself blushing as she admired his body, now slick wet and gleaming with the warm water.

He paddled towards her from across the tub. Closer and closer he swam, until he was right in front of Carolina who subconsciously took a step backwards, feeling the cold tile press against her back.

The way he was looking at her made her breath catch and her chest tighten, while her arms and legs felt useless and awkward. She could see her own wonderment reflected in his blue eyes. All there ever was were his eyes…

Hesitantly, Fred brought a silent hand up to Carolina's cheek, tracing his thumb over her cheekbone, then down to the corner of her jaw, lower and lower down the side of her neck, until it latched itself into her bra strap, tugging it off her shoulder, before doing the same to other one.

Biting her lip, Carolina brought her hands up and behind her back, carefully unclipping her bra. It floated up to the top of the water, just in between them. She turned her eyes up to look at Fred's nervously.

His mouth was open, his breathing heavy, and his eyes lingered on her white bra, floating in front of him, before they traveled up her chest and caught hers.

He took a step closer. "Lina," he whispered, looking into her eyes searchingly and Carolina instantly knew what he was looking for. He needed to know the same thing that she needed to know.

Carolina brought her hand up out of the water and pushed it through Fred's hair, slicking back the strands that had fallen into his face. Slowly, she took a step forward and pushed the bra out of the way, before bringing her other arm out of the water as well and resting it on his shoulder.

She took a breath in, before standing on her tiptoes, and gently bringing her lips to his.

That was all the encouragement that Fred needed and suddenly her back was against the tiled wall once again, and her naked chest pressed up against his, and his hands were clutching her lower back, running through her wet, tangled hair, down her arms, and her legs were wrapped around his waist, and he was pulling off her underwear, and then his.

When Carolina would recall this night many years later, she would remember the distinct image of their undergarments, floating away across the pool, turning gently in the waves that were emanating from their bodies together.

Some time later-Carolina wasn't sure how much later, but her body had turned pruny and the water was only lukewarm at best-she found herself stepping out of the pool, her hand clasped in Fred's.

He carefully wrapped a towel around her, a content smile playing across his face. Carolina admired how relaxed he looked-she hadn't seen him like that in a while; he'd been working so hard on the fireworks and setting up Weasley's Wizard Wheezes-his eyelids were half lowered, his cheeks were rosy and his chest rose slowly, up and down. She watched in silent awe, forgetting how much her body actually ached, as he grabbed a towel for himself, dragging it across his body, shaking it through his hair.

There were so many parts of him, so many little hairs on his body, so many freckles, so many fingers and toes and eyelashes and they were all here with her. All of them were hers, she found herself thinking as he raised his head, finished toweling, and smiled up at her.

"Fred," Carolina said quietly, stepping closer to him. The tile was cold on the bottoms of her feet but she could feel electricity pulsing through her. She wrapped her arms around him again and his smile widened. "I love you," she murmured, leaning in but when she kissed him, something was wrong.

His lips weren't moving like they normally would, his arms weren't around her.

Carolina took a step back, feeling her stomach plunge somewhere deep within her.

"Carolina, I-" Fred started, a look of regret crossing his face.

"Oh my god," Carolina whispered, feeling horrified, mortified even. "Oh my god," she repeated, taking another step back.

"No! Lina-I just-I don't, you know, I don't think-I'm sorry!"

Carolina grabbed her wand, rapidly summoning her clothes to her and casting a vicious drying spell to her soaking undergarments.

"Listen, I really like you," Fred started to say.

"Don't bother!" Carolina spat back at him, pulling her underwear and skirt on, not bothering with her tights and bra.

"You know, like more than my mates!" Fred continued desperately.

"That's rich, more than your mates," Carolina snarled. She couldn't believe what she'd just done. She'd felt so sure beforehand that he had felt the same way as her. And he didn't. She felt used, misled… hurt.

How could she have let herself do that with him? Lose her virginity to him, and he didn't even love her back? She was such a fool, such an utter, complete fool.

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, whether from sadness or from her pride being hurt beyond repair, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she needed to get out of there; to get away from Fred and the useless explanations he was flinging at her as she dressed.

"It's not you-I'm just not-you know, I've been spending so much time thinking about the shop-and I didn't know-Lina, I'm sorry, could you just stop moving for a second?"

"I'll see you around, Fred," Carolina muttered darkly, finally back in her clothes. With her cloak pulled tightly around her, she ran out of the prefects' bathroom, ignoring his pleas for her to stop and to come back.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _And we're back from that little break! Ahhh, this chapter was difficult to write! Semi-based on my own life when I told someone I loved them and they said they liked me more than most people... ha. (But, also not based on my life at all because I didn't lose my virginity in the Hogwarts Prefect Bathroom!) Anyways, hopefully Fred and Carolina's respective actions/reactions feel in character. I tried to channel my inner 18 year old while writing this and pull out their immaturity/pride/lack of emotional intelligence. HOPE IT WORKED AND AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS. YOU ARE ALL THE GREATEST!_


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-eight**

* * *

Carolina woke up late the following morning to an empty dorm room. Feeling thankful that she had a free period and didn't have to explain her bloodshot eyes and puffy face to her roommates, she slowly pulled a sweater on over the disheveled t-shirt she had slept in, before sitting back down on the bed and pulling her knees into her chest.

She didn't know where to go, or what to do even. She knew that the Great Hall was to be avoided at all costs-Fred would certainly be there-and then in an hour's time, she would have double Potions. At least he wouldn't be in that class. Then lunch… maybe she could get food from the kitchens instead… though he might look for her there and if there was one thing that Carolina was certain of, it was that the last thing she wanted today was to be forced to speak to Fred. So, maybe returning to the dormitory and studying through lunch was in order.

She stood up, stretching out her sore limbs. There was no use in crying anymore, she decided as she pulled a comb through her tangled hair. She'd done enough of that last night upon returning from the prefects' bathroom.

He was leaving and he didn't love her and sure, she'd made a fool of herself but… it didn't matter, she thought, remembering his face the night before as he struggled to find the words to tell her he didn't love her back.

She'd been so foolish, she decided. Too trusting, too naive. Well, that wouldn't be a problem again. He was leaving and she could return to focusing on her studies which she had really let fall by the wayside over the past few months…

Potions was uneventful as they were only reviewing how to brew veritaserum and the class passed by in a haze of chopping ingredients and stirring cauldrons.

Still, Carolina felt exhausted afterwards. Veritaserum was particularly difficult to get just right and she had gotten very little sleep the night before. She really didn't have it in her to go all the way back down to common room and then climb up more stairs to her dormitory, so she grabbed her book bag and plopped herself down in an unused classroom on the first floor, pulling out her Arithmancy notes.

She didn't stand up when she started hearing the booms and the bangs echoing off the floors above her as Fred and George began to set off their collection of Weasley's Wildfire Whizzbangs, nor did she stand up when she heard Umbridge's curdling scream, or the crash of what sounded like a chandelier falling.

She didn't stand up when she heard the running footsteps and cheerful yells of her classmates as they encouraged the twins in whooping hurrahs. And she didn't stand up in curiosity when the yells of "enchanted swamp!" passed by the classroom in which she was seated or when she heard their broomsticks zoom down the corridors and up to the Great Hall.

And she made certain effort not to stand up and run upstairs when she heard the student body rush into the courtyard, yelling goodbye, wishing good luck as the twins presumably flew off into the distance.

No, she stayed seated, staring determinedly down at her Arithmancy notes, despite not reading a single one of them. Her vision had blurred and she sniffed affectedly, trying to hold back the few remaining tears left in her body.

She wasn't sure what hurt more: his betrayal last night or the fact that this morning he hadn't even come looking for her to say goodbye.

* * *

The following weeks would have been some of the loneliest of Carolina's life had she allowed herself to feel anything but the sheer determination that nothing get between her and the O's she deserved to score on her N.E.W.T.s.

Instead of allowing any of her many emotions to creep under her skin-about Fred's departure, the fact that he had enough time to create an entire portable swamp in the charms corridor yet seemingly hadn't found the time to apologize or say goodbye or even write her, Adrian's abandonment, the near-constant barrage of snide comments from her classmates, the aggravating misuse of power by both Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad, the impending danger her life would be in when she fully accepted her position for the Order of the Phoenix-instead of allowing those thoughts to penetrate her head, she simply studied her runes, practiced her potions and charms, reread her History of Magic and Arithmancy notes, perfected her nonverbal transfiguration techniques, prepared for her Muggle Studies essay, and created flashcards to identify different plants for Herbology.

She had been having a tricky time practicing for her Defense Against the Dark Arts practical. She could do almost everything, but despite having been able to conjure her patronus months ago, all she had been able to produce had been a miserable wisp of white vapor.

The memory she had used, the one of the snowball fight in February, didn't seem to work for her anymore, and instead, she tried focusing on moments of mild contentment from her childhood: the pride she had felt after performing magic for the first time, sitting with Adrian on the Hogwarts Express after first year, that one time she and Marcus had worked together to bake cookies before either of them had gone off to school. These thoughts sometimes worked-though her corporeal fox patronus was never as strong nor did it maintain the longevity as it had when she had first conjured it.

Still, she studied and she studied and she studied, continuing to do so even as her exams began. The idea of stopping seemed particularly heinous to her. She didn't know who she would be if she wasn't busy studying.

* * *

Carolina clutched the June 19th Daily Prophet in her hands as her eyes rapidly took in the text printed on the open page next to a forgotten plate of eggs and toast.

" _He Who Must Not Be Named Returns"_ took up most of the front page in bold, black lettering, followed closely by a detailed description of what had apparently taken place overnight in the Ministry of Magic. Carolina's mouth had fallen open at this part; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Ginny had all escaped the castle after being restrained by Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad and flown to London? That was impressive, to say the least, if not reckless.

" _Minister of Magic to Step Down at End of Month Amidst Fiasco at Department of Mysteries."_ Well, good riddance, in Carolina's opinion. Fudge had obviously bungled the whole ordeal-and he was remarkably delusional if he actually had believed Dumbledore was building an army of students to fight fully trained ministry wizards and witches. Certainly not fit to be the leader of their government.

" _Dumbledore: Reinstated as Headmaster of Hogwarts."_ Upon reading this headline, Carolina's eyes darted up to the staff table. How had she not noticed that the bearded Headmaster was back in his rightful seat and, her eyes scanned the table, was Umbridge missing? She certainly was! Carolina felt a certain amount of glee flow through her body for the first time in nearly a month.

She looked back down at the paper spread before her:

" _Death Eater Terror Continues!"_ Her eyes hastily read the rest of the article which outlined safety precautions one could take as well as reminding the populace of the identities of those Death Eaters who had escaped Azkaban back in January.

" _Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban,"_ a smaller headline read. Carolina sneaked a look down the Slytherin table at Draco who looked positively irate and was smashing his sausage with sheer determination. Apparently his father had been caught aiding You-Know-Who last night in the Department of Mysteries and had been sent to the wizarding prison as recently as this morning, without trial.

Carolina sighed… the ministry didn't seem to be changing their ways after all. Sending another man to Azkaban without a trial, without a chance to defend himself? It seemed that Mr. Malfoy's case was similar to Sirius Black's… Both caught at the scene of the crime. Still, both deserved a trial before imprisonment, in Carolina's opinion.

"Caro?"

Carolina looked up, surprised to hear her nickname spoken in a recognizable tone.

It was Adrian. "Professor Snape asked me to give this to you," he said awkwardly, holding out a piece of parchment. "I didn't read it," he added quickly as Carolina took the paper from him.

"I didn't think you did," Carolina said crossly.

She was about to unroll the note when Adrian plopped down across from her and began loading waffles onto his plate.

"Did you want something?" Carolina asked, nonplussed. Who did he think he was, sitting with her as if he hadn't just ignored her existence for the past three months?

"Er, I reckon I owe you an apology," he said carefully, unable to meet her eyes.

"Oh, do you?" Carolina spat.

"Yeah, what with-this all," he motioned to the Daily Prophet on the table between them. "I suppose I don't blame you for wanting to practice your defensive spells on the sly. Better to be prepared, innit?"

"Is that it? You forgive me for teaching myself defensive magic?" Carolina snarled. He was smack out of line if he thought he could mend their friendship with just that.

"And well, I reckon I was a bit judgmental-"

"A bit?" Carolina interrupted incredulously.

"Bit more than a bit, actually," Adrian amended. "But I just-I didn't want Weasley to hurt you and I didn't think it was a good idea and Miles-don't tell him I told you this-he really liked you-"

"It's a bit late for all this," Carolina said sourly. And it was true. Fred had hurt her, it hadn't been a good idea, and it really didn't matter whether Miles Bletchley liked her or not.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I just-I missed you, Caro," Adrian said, his voice cracking on the last few syllables. Carolina looked up, studying him. He did indeed appear remorseful, on the verge of crying even. Perhaps, upon reading the most recent Prophet, he had been moved to realize that there were bigger problems in their world than who she had been dating.

She glanced down at the paper. The world seemed so big, so messed up.

"It's alright, Ades," Carolina said. "Apology accepted." It would be nice to have her friend back. To have someone to sit with at graduation, and on her last Hogwarts Express ride.

"Really?" Adrian asked, looking up hopefully through watery eyes.

"Yeah," Carolina said, before adding, "but I don't want to hear any bloody 'I told you so's' about Fred-"

"Not a word!" Adrian interrupted her, beaming, before grabbing a piece of toast off her plate. Carolina gave him an amused look which soon turned into a scowl at his next question: "What happened there, anyways? You two still together now that he's buggered off?"

"We are not discussing it," Carolina said harshly. "And you can get your own toast, thank you very much!" She pulled her plate back towards her, despite the fact that her eggs had now turned cold.

"What'd Snape want?" Adrian asked, changing the subject and motioning to the scroll on the table besides the newspaper.

"Oh, er, let me check," Carolina said. She had almost forgotten about the note in light of her and Adrian's recent make up.

" _Ms. Flint-_

 _Please stop by my office after your Defense exam tomorrow afternoon._

 _Severus Snape"_

She read it outloud to Adrian, before shrugging.

"I don't know what he wants," she lied. She did have an idea. It probably had to do with her job at the Ministry…

"Hm," Adrian said. "Maybe he's going to ask you on a date now that you've almost graduated-"

"And there will no more of those bloody jokes either!" Carolina said, a dangerous look crossing her face.

"Right, right, sorry," Adrian said raising his hands. "Learning curve, you know? I've been stuck with only Miles for conversation for months now-"

"And whose fault is that?" Carolina added tersely.

"Mine!" Adrian hummed, grinning at her. Carolina felt herself grin back, happy to have him, at least, back in her life.

* * *

With Adrian's apology, Carolina found that it was quite a bit easier to conjure her patronus during the practical part of her exam-though she seriously doubted that it would hold up in front of an actual dementor.

Still, seeing her fox, fully formed and prancing about at the feet of the test administrator, sent her in a jolly mood. She was certain to receive an 'O' for her Defense N.E.W.T. In fact, the only other seventh years who could probably conjure their patronuses were Lee, Angelina and Alicia.

As she exited the Great Hall, content with her performance, she made a mental note to attempt to teach Adrian. It was a right useful bit of magic that he was certain to need to know for the times that lay ahead of them.

Her feet brought her down the many staircases to the Potionmaster's doorway and she rapped smartly upon the wood.

"Enter," came the low hum of her favorite teacher's voice but she was met with another upon stepping into the classroom.

"Thank you for joining us, Carolina," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling serenely from where he was seated behind Snape's desk. Professor Snape, on the other hand, was standing and leaning against the chalkboard with a hawkish look on his face. "I take it your exam went well?"

"Yes, sir," Carolina nodded.

"Very good," Dumbledore said, before clasping his hands. "Now, Professor Snape has told me that you have kindly accepted our offer to act as our go-between with Madam Bones's office."

"Yes, sir," Carolina nodded.

"I had the chance to meet with her during my sabbatical-not at the Ministry, of course," Dumbledore continued, "and she is very excited to welcome you back as her clerk-a step above the position you held last summer, I believe. I hope you don't mind, we'd like for you to get started right away. Would you consider reporting to her on your first day after graduation?"

"Yes!" Carolina nodded, enthusiastically. She wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, diving straight into her job would keep her mind off of other, less pleasant personal matters.

"Wonderful," Dumbledore said jovially. "Now, a bit of housekeeping. I assume, seeing as you have just taken your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam that you are proficient in casting the patronus spell?"

"I am, sir," Carolina replied.

"Very good. Now, I have developed a method of communication-unbeknownst to the Ministry, and I'd like to keep it that way," he said, tapping a finger against his long nose, "that involves the corporeal patronus. Professor Snape has volunteered to teach you the spell this afternoon so that you may use it to communicate with the Order when necessary."

Carolina nodded her head for him to go on.

"And when I say necessary, I mean absolutely necessary, Ms. Flint. If you are caught passing information out of the ministry… well, suffice to say that the more discretion the better. I would even urge you to wait to present your findings until our bi-weekly meetings and use your patronus only for emergencies."

"Yes, sir," Carolina said.

"Now, I must depart for the Hospital Wing... I believe Mr. Potter will be waking up just about now," Dumbledore said as he stood up and nodded in Carolina's direction. "I leave you in the willing hands of Professor Snape who is, I believe perfectly capable of teaching more than just Potions…" At this, Snape's face turned into an uncharacteristic smile, though it was dashed seconds later at Dumbledore's next comment: "Indeed, I have heard that he is a rather graceful dance instructor as well!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _I am honestly blown away by the number of reviews coming in lately. Thank you all so much! I've been having a bit of trouble bringing myself to sit down and finish the last few chapters that I have yet to write but reading your feedback is definitely inspiring me to work harder at them. This chapter wasn't so mind-blowing, but the next two are some of my favorites that I have written. Again, thank you all for your support!_


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-nine**

* * *

"Carolina, have you finished annotating that piece of legislature Rufus was asking me to review-the one that increases the aurors' rights in combat?" Amelia called from within her office.

"Oh, er, it's just about done," Carolina said, sitting back down at her desk and placing her bag back on her lap. She had thought that Amelia had wanted it tomorrow, meaning first thing tomorrow morning… not before leaving work today. She had been planning to work on it at home after the mandatory dinner with her parents and Marcus.

"Oh, you were just leaving, weren't you?" Amelia said, a look of regret forming on her face.

"No-no, I was just-"

"Merlin, is it already 7:30?" Amelia interrupted, looking down at her watch. "Listen, go home, have some supper, and just floo the documents over to me before you go to bed," she said kindly.

Carolina nodded gratefully. "Will do. Say…" she trailed off, thinking how fast she could get out of her parents' house and quickly add final notes to document, "by 10?"

"That'd be perfect," Amelia smiled kindly, before turning back into her office. "If you wait a mo', I'll follow you out."

Carolina grabbed her cloak-despite not needing it in the warm summer weather-and stood by the lift, waiting for her boss to catch up.

She had only been working at the ministry for about a month now, but she had been enjoying herself immensely-enough, even, not to tire of the often 11 hour days that she spent poring over documents and assisting her boss, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in crafting legislature that would ideally benefit and empower the Ministry in their fight against You-Know-Who.

Of course, there was the other part of her job… the part that Professors Snape and Dumbledore had assigned for her, which was passing on information from Amelia to the Order of the Phoenix, but so far, with Fudge's recent impeachment and the scramble to elect a new Minister of Magic and then the subsequent scramble to find a new head of the Auror Department once Rufus Scrimgeour had been elected as Minister… well, both Amelia and Carolina had found themselves with enough on their plate.

Carolina knew that there had been a meeting for the Order of the Phoenix in early July, but with nothing to report so far, and a 25 page memo on war crimes to draft, had written Dumbledore and opted out of attending the meeting.

"Sorry, that took a bit," Amelia said, striding up to her along the corridor between empty cubicles. Her robes swayed elegantly, though her face looked haggard. "Couldn't find the new budget report…"

"What is this, the seventh draft?" Carolina asked, pushing the button for the lift.

"Not much better… the fifth," Amelia frowned. "Mind you, Fudge always over-extended our department's cash flow, but at least he knew how to write a proper budget report…"

"I'm sure there's a learning curve," Carolina replied. "Besides, the Auror department's expenses are minimal compared to say, the Goblin Liaison Office."

"True… True. Rufus was never one for the numbers. Did you know he was in my year at Hogwarts?"

"Really?" Carolina gasped as they stepped into the lift.

"Yes. Didn't make Head Boy, though," Amelia smirked, looking down at the briefcase clutched in front of her knees. "Nearly failed Arithmancy."

"And you were Head Girl, I assume?" Carolina queried.

"Right you are!"

"Amelia," Carolina asked hesitantly as the lift descended rapidly. "Why didn't you run for Minister of Magic? You're much more set for the job than Scrimgeour…"

Amelia chuckled in response. "Well, the answer is two-fold, really. For one, I have found through the years that the greater position to affect change is often the one not in the public eye." Carolina nodded admiringly. Amelia was so wise…

"And for the second reason," her boss continued, "well, Albus asked that I remain in a position that wouldn't attract as much… unwanted attention. I think he fears that I might become a target if I were to ascend to become Minister."

The voice in the lift pleasantly chimed "Ground floor!" as they came to a stop and the doors slid open.

"Which reminds me," Amelia said as they started walking through the empty lobby, their heels clicking against the black marble floors, "I'd like for you to attend the next meeting." Her voice was suddenly low, despite the fact that they were completely alone. "I have reason to believe that Gawain might be compromised…"

Carolina nodded quickly. Gawain Robards was the newly appointed director for the auror department… a rather solemn man, in Carolina's opinion, but certainly a fastidious worker.

"Right," she replied, determinedly.

"Listen, I have to go over this budget before I get to approving the new auror legislature," Amelia said, her voice louder now as they halted in front of the nearest fireplace. "Why don't you come over I'll make us some dinner and you can finish your annotations while I finish the budget?"

Carolina sighed. "I have to go to dinner at my parents', actually," she groaned. "I really wish I could. The stew you made last time was excellent…" Twice now, Amelia and subsequently Carolina as Amelia's clerk had been so completely bogged down with work that they had worked through dinner together.

"No matter!" Amelia waved her hand, gesturing Carolina into the fireplace. "Just come over after then!"

Carolina nodded resolutely. "Definitely," she said, before grabbing a handful of floo powder from the side and stepping into the fireplace. "Hopefully dinner will be quick," she said, waving at her boss, before throwing the powder down at her feet and yelling "Flint residence!"

Stepping out of the burst of green flames, Carolina pushed her hands down her cloak, dusting off the residual floo powder and ash from the fireplace.

"You're late," said a disapproving voice from the couch that could only be that of Carolina's mother.

"I'm sorry," Carolina said tensely, taking in the disapproving looks of the room's occupants. "Madam Bones wanted me to-"

She was interrupted however, by her father as he stood up from his seat in the armchair.. "I see you are still making excuses for your own actions."

Carolina sighed. He was, of course, referencing a speech that he and her mother had given Carolina upon graduation, when she had moved back into their townhouse for her first week at the Ministry while searching for her own flat. A speech that condemned Carolina for attempting to justify her involvement in Dumbledore's Army as her duty to the school.

In fact, had it not been for the fact that upon Dumbledore's return, he had reinstated Carolina as Head Girl, she was certain her parents would never allowed her to live in their house again.

"I'm sorry, father," Carolina replied, before looking around. "Where's Marcus?"

"You're brother will only be joining us for dessert tonight, I'm afraid," Carolina's mother said as she too stood up. "Now, take your cloak off and join us in the dining room."

Carolina's nostrils flared in anger. So, she was reprimanded for showing up barely five minutes late and Marcus got to skip the majority of the meal entirely? How was that fair?

She roughly shrugged her cloak off, tossing it onto the back of the couch and followed her parents into the dining room.

It seemed that the house elf had made a roast of some sort and as Carolina pulled out her chair, sitting down, her father elegantly swiped his wand through the air, slicing off pieces and planting them upon plates among potatoes and other root vegetables, before levitating the plates to each person.

Carolina silently admired his handiwork. Upon moving into her own flat, she had suddenly realized the amount of practical spellwork Hogwarts had forgone teaching them that would have made independent living much easier. Cooking charms being at the forefront…

The trio ate in silence, accentuated only by a slight cough from her mother.

"And how is work?" her father suddenly asked, as if continuing a previous conversation.

"Mm-it's good," Carolina said swallowing.

Her mother gave her a repulsed look. "Eat smaller bites if you are to have trouble swallowing, dear," she said harshly.

"And have you gotten wind of any new trade agreements being written into law at the Ministry?" her father continued seriously.

Carolina eyed him suspiciously. In fact, she had been made aware of a new tax on magical creature imports that was in the works, though it wasn't being directly written by Amelia, so she couldn't say she had seen it. Had this been the sole reason for her invite to dinner after three weeks of silence?

"No," she replied, lying easily. Her father had no interest in her work. He had only wanted to know if his dragon hide business would be affected by the new law.

Carolina smiled smugly to herself; it most certainly would. In fact, it would certainly close the loopholes in which she knew her father had been operating. Soon, "creature imports" would be expanded to include "creature product imports," meaning that his skins would be taxed the same rate as importing an entire dragon. Anyways, to tip him off that such a law was in the works would be unfair to the other businesses in his trade, and could be considered market manipulation.

"Hm," her father said, seemingly losing interest in her. "They don't tell you much as clerk, I suppose," he added.

Carolina felt herself grinning. "Well, I'm afraid what they do and don't tell me is classified."

"Carolina, don't be smug; it's unladylike," her mother reprimanded her, and the grin dropped from Carolina's face.

The rest of the dinner went rather quickly. Carolina's parents made small talk about the family business, shouldering off any attempt Carolina made at inserting herself into the conversation and soon it was time for dessert.

Just as they were finishing dinner, Marcus arrived via floo and to no one's surprise, the conversation shifted immediately to his training regimen, diet, sleeping habits, and time spent on the pitch.

"And are you eating enough protein, son?"

"Quidditch players only have so many years you know; it's important to take care of your body. Extend your career span, if you can."

"...Cap'n's been having us all eat roasted fire salamanders before games," Marcus said dully, before plopping a cream puff into his mouth.

"That's disgusting," Carolina cut in, nearly gagging. Fire salamander blood was all well and good to use in a strengthening potion but eating the entire salamander? She shuddered…

"Carolina, if you have nothing becoming to say, you mustn't say anything at all," her mother quipped back quickly, before continuing her insipid appraisal of Marcus's diet and habits.

It was just enough to make Carolina want to gauge her ears out. And Marcus was just sitting there like a prat, smirking at her...

The conversation carried on for another 15 minutes until Carolina, not wanting to spend any more time than she had to with her brother, decided it was worth a shot to ask if she could leave.

"...You see, I have quite a bit of work waiting for me at home," she finished, looking hopefully between her parents.

"Off with you, then," her father said, waving his hand. Apparently, her seeming inability to answer his questions made her appearance at dinner unnecessary after all.

"Shall I pack you a platter?" her mother asked as Carolina stood up, excusing herself.

"No need; I mostly eat out at work," Carolina replied, walking back to the living room. "Thank you for dinner, Mother; it was delicious."

"Don't lie-the elf overcooked the meat," her mother frowned, her hawkish eyes glaring at her daughter.

"Right." Carolina said, pulling her cloak back on. "Well, thank you anyways. Bye Marcus."

Something that sounded more similar to a wild board's grunt than any human language came from her brother. Carolina supposed that was all the civility she could hope for this evening.

She stepped into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the basin to the left of the fireplace.

"Amelia Bones's residence!" she called, throwing the powder down and feeling the green flames licking softly at her ankles.

When Carolina stepped out from beneath the fireplace, she knew something was instantly wrong. She could hear the whistle of the tea kettle as its water boiled and as she looked around, it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.

She sharply inhaled and held up her wand, whispering "lumos," as she felt her pulse immediately quicken.

The last time she had been here, the wizarding wireless had been on and Amelia had been sitting in her rocking chair, a stack of seven leather bound books at her feet.

As she slowly guided herself around the expensive furniture of the living room, Carolina noticed that everything was exactly where it should be. Not a single picture frame or candle was out of place. Even the mugs of half-drunken tea were still sitting on the various side tables. Perhaps Amelia had set the kettle on and ran out for something from the store? It wasn't like her boss to be absent minded, but it was possible.

That must be it, Carolina decided, the fear she had initially felt quickly leaving her body. Amelia had probably just gone to get biscuits for them or something.

Well, she might as well turn off the bloody stove, Carolina thought to herself.

Feeling more confident, she walked down the tight hall, through the small dining room with documents spread so far across the table that you couldn't see any of the wood, and into the kitchen.

However, upon reaching the kitchen, Carolina gasped at the complete destruction and her wand dropped from her hand and rolled across the floor.

It rolled and rolled until it hit something and abruptly stopped. Carolina felt a scream leave her body as she realized what her wand had hit.

There, lying at the far end of the kitchen, her body propped up against the pantry door, was Amelia.

Her eyes were wide open and her mouth ajar, as if she had only had the wind knocked out of her, but Carolina knew from the state of the room that that wasn't the case.

"Oh my god," Carolina said, though it came out more like a sob. She clutched her face, feeling faint as her blood pumped through her veins. It felt thick, viscous, and hot, like magma pushing slowly up through the earth.

She had to do something! Something had to be done! She had to…

She surveyed the room. What looked like spaghetti was scattered across the floor, mixed with shards of glass and flour. Perhaps the spells had hit the jars of drygoods and shattered. Pots and pans were lying about and the icebox was turned on its side, swinging open.

She closed her eyes, willing this to be gone when she opened them again, but it was the same. Her chest felt tight, like she couldn't breathe. She hastily took a breath in, but it was too much air, and she found herself coughing.

Suddenly, she knew what she had to do, but she needed her wand for it. And right now, her wand was lying at the feet of her murdered boss…

She needed to tell Dumbledore, and then she needed to get the hell out of there. Whoever had done this, well, they could still be nearby.

The following steps were the hardest Carolina had ever taken in her life as she slowly approached Amelia's body and plucked up her wand, before racing out of the room and into the nearest bathroom, magically locking the door. She cast a silencing charm. She didn't want the murderer to hear her cast a patronus, and unfortunately she didn't think she could do the spell non-verbally.

She tried to think of a happy memory but her mind drew a blank. Oh god, why was this happening to her now? She had pretty much aced the spell in Professor Snape's classroom over a month ago!

She needed something… anything happy.

Her mind instantly snapped to the first time she had been able to produce a patronus… the snowball fight. But Fred didn't love her. She didn't know if it would work.

She screwed up her eyes, and tried to keep her breathing steady. It needed to work. She needed it to work!

She tried desperately to picture his face, rosy with mirth as they ran hand in hand through the snow, ducking snowballs flung at them by his brother and Lee.

"Expecto Patronum!" she bellowed, her eyes stilly tightly shut, but she opened them in amazement at the glow white light that penetrated through her eyelids.

Suddenly, she felt incredibly grateful that she had dated Fred, even if he couldn't love her, just for the fact that he had given her that memory… which was somehow strong enough to conjure a patronus despite her overwhelming circumstances.

"Patronus Nuntius!" she shouted again, pointing her wand at the translucent white fox in front of her.

It glowed brighter momentarily, before returning to its normal hue.

"Go to Dumbledore, tell him Amelia's been murdered," Carolina whispered to the fox. "Go!" she urged, as the fox jumped out the open window, disappearing quicker than the speed of light.

Now, she just had to get back to the fireplace since Amelia's house had a safety charm placed on it that forbid apparation.

She stepped forward, placing her hand on the doorknob and took a breath in.

Suddenly, a bright, glowing white phoenix swooped down into the room and Carolina heard Dumbledore's voice rumble around her: "Help is on the way. Stay where you are."

"Oh my god," Carolina breathed out for the second time that evening as the phoenix evaporated and she staggered back from the door and plopped herself down onto the toilet seat.

She could only hope that whatever help was on the way would reach her before whoever had killed Amelia…

The following minutes were some of the longest in Carolina's life. Every little sound set her on edge. The sound of a car rounding the corner made her jump and the hoot of an owl had her nearly in tears.

Then, a tiny click from the lock on the door. Carolina jabbed her wand out in front of her, waiting for her fate. She wasn't about to just go down without a fight.

She watched, in horror, as the doorknob slowly began to turn.

The door swung open. "Impedimenta!" she yelled at the silhouette in front of her.

"Protego!" it countered, swishing it's wand through the air, before adding "Stupefy!"

* * *

It was so bright. Why was it so bright? The lights must have been turned on, Carolina thought, blinking stupidly at the illuminated ceiling.

"Oh good, you're awake," a friendly female voice said from beside her.

Carolina lurched forward, sitting up. Where was her wand?

"Easy there," the voice said and Carolina spun around to face her assailant, but paused, losing her steam.

She suddenly felt rather embarrassed. There, kneeling to her right was the auror Nymphadora Tonks. Carolina recognized her easily; she was the only witch at the Ministry with pink hair, after all.

"Sorry 'bout that," the auror said. "Didn't get a good look at you, sitting there in the dark, 'nd thought you might have been a death eater!"

Carolina blushed, before rubbing her eyes. She had tried to attack an auror… what an idiot. Dumbledore had said help was on its way, after all.

"Er, how long have I been-"

"Just a minute or so. Moved you out of the bathroom before trying to rennervate you."

Carolina looked around. She was now in the living room, propped up on one of Amelia's floral couches.

"Oh."

"Listen, Carolina, the aurors are going to want to interview you," Tonks said, before leaning in and whispering, "and then I'll take you to the Order's safe house."

Carolina's eyebrows shot up. Tonks was in the Order? Was all of the auror department in the order? That felt like something Dumbledore should have relayed to her before she took her job…

Numbly, she nodded.

"Kingsley! She's awake!" Tonks called, a little too brightly, waving over a tall, dark and handsome auror in deep purple robes.

"Ah, Ms. Flint. As I'm sure you're aware, seeing as you were found at the scene of the crime, you will have to present a witness statement that can be used against you if need be in court."

Carolina nodded. Of course she was aware of that. She worked for the bloody courts.

"Can you tell me how you happened to be here?" the auror, Kingsley, asked her.

"I was… I was coming over with the n-new, legislation," she said, stuttering. "It's-it's in my bag." She pointed to her discarded bag, sitting where she had dropped it by the fireplace. "We were going to edit it," she added slowly, "when I… I found her," she finished.

Tonks gave her a sympathetic look but Kingsley only carried on with the questioning.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, Carolina had answered all of his questions, which she had finally noticed were being recorded by a quick quotes quill, and was being escorted out of the house by Tonks.

"Listen, I'm sorry but Dumbledore wants you to relay what you just told Kingsley to the rest of the Order, I know you probably just want to go home, but it will just be a quick stop, I promise."

"Right," Carolina nodded. She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to do anything. She wanted none of this to have ever happened.

As they stepped out the door and down the sidewalk, before stopping, as Tonks clutched her arm. Carolina felt her breath catch. There, above Amelia's house, floating in the dark, moonless sky, was a humongous, glowing, green skull with a snake protruding from out of its mouth. It looked almost as if lit by green starlight, but the sky was overcast…

"I suppose you haven't seen the dark mark before," Tonks said darkly.

Carolina shook her head. "Was it… was it… death eaters?"

"We have reason to believe it was You-Know-Who himself," Tonks muttered, before adding "now hold on to my arm."

Carolina grasped Tonks arm and felt herself dragged through another dimension, squeezed through a revolving tube and pushed back out into the world with a sudden pop.

She felt like she was going to be sick, whether from the rather violent apparation or the realization she had probably arrived only minutes after Voldemort himself had been standing in Amelia's home.

Or perhaps, the sickly feeling was stemming from the sight of the lopsided house in front of her. A house that looked like it could only be held up by magic. A house that she recognized from the stories Fred had told her of his childhood while they had played hooky from studying so many weeks ago: The Burrow.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty**

* * *

"Right, Dumbledore said that you're to wait here until after the meeting," Tonks said, guiding Carolina by the elbow towards the staggering, multi-storied shack.

Carolina's feet dragged through the grass, unwilling to move on their own accord.

In the yellow light of a window on the first floor, directly ahead of her, she could see a mop of red hair shuffling about in what looked like a kitchen.

She gulped. Why couldn't they just let her go home? Why had they brought her here of all places?

Tonks rapped smartly on the wooden door and it was instantly opened.

"Ah, Nymphadora!" a man that Carolina recognized as Mr. Weasley said. Tonks visibly darkened at the use of her full name. "Are you here for dinner?"

"Sorry, Arthur," Tonks said, stepping inside and dragging Carolina out from behind her and into the light of the small kitchen. "Just dropping off Carolina here under Dumbledore's orders."

At the mention of Carolina's name, the clang of a pot dropping onto the floor resounded through the room.

As Carolina stepped forward, she was met with the suspicious stare of a middle-aged witch. Mrs. Weasley bent down to pick up the pot she had dropped, not once taking her eyes off Carolina.

"Ah! You must be the new recruit at the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley said jovially.

Carolina nodded stiffly.

"What are you—" Mr. Weasley began to ask but was quickly interrupted by Tonks.

"Listen-Molly, Arthur-I can't stay long. The other aurors will notice my absence, but there was a murder and Dumbledore's called a meeting here-"

"A murder!?" Mrs. Weasley interrupted shrilly.

"Yeah, Amelia Bones," Tonks said. "Listen, I really have to run. Make sure she," Tonks whispered, pointing at Carolina who was nervously inspecting the grand clock in the corner of the room with the face of the Weasley family painted onto the many hands of the clock, "doesn't bolt. She's had a rough enough evening of it."

"Did she-" Arthur began, with a lowered voice.

"Found her, yeah. Delivering paperwork." Carolina could hear the sympathy in Tonks's voice but decided not to acknowledge that she had heard them talking about her. "Right," Tonks continued louder now, "I don't know if Kingsley or I will make it back in time for the meeting, but we'll send word if we're coming." She waved and darted out the door and Carolina was left standing awkwardly in the kitchen of her ex-boyfriend's parents' house. She gulped.

"Why don't you have a seat on the couch, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, shuffling Carolina past the long wooden dining table set for what looked like ten people or so and into a small but comfortable living room. "I suppose I'll have to add another place setting," Carolina heard the witch grumble under her breath as she retreated back into the kitchen.

Carolina pulled her knees into her chest and looked around at the house Fred grew up in. There were dozens of framed family photos on the walls-some of small, red-headed children running about and others of elderly wizards and witches calmly sitting in their frames, faded with the passage of time.

She had the distinct suspicion that his mother knew who she was-from the dropping of the pot at Carolina's name being mentioned, and the strangely narrowed eyes, pursed lips, the gruff placement of her in the living room.

"Bit weird for you, being here?" Carolina heard coming from the doorway.

She looked over. Ginny Weasley, Fred's little sister and a powerful young witch as Carolina had observed in the D.A. meetings, was leaning against the doorway, a cup of tea in hand.

Carolina nodded. This was the last place she had thought she would end up this evening.

"Brought you some tea," Ginny said, walking over to Carolina and handing her the warm mug. "Sorry about mum; she's a bit over protective. Told me Fred was pretty torn up about you after he left Hogwarts. Apparently he wasn't even bashing Percy."

"Is he… is he here?" Carolina whispered, her eyes growing wider.

"No, don't worry. He and George live in the flat above their shop."

Carolina let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes briefly. "Thank Merlin," she whispered. At least she wouldn't have to see him tonight. She didn't know if her nerves could take any more excitement.

"What happened between you two, anyways?" Ginny asked plainly.

Carolina eyed the young witch critically. Couldn't she see Carolina didn't want to talk about this-or anything really?

If Ginny could see that, she didn't care, as she bravely plowed on, "he's been in a right mood all summer. And I thought you were set to stay together after Hogwarts?"

"He's a bloody emotionally stunted wanker," Carolina forced out, before taking a sip of her tea.

"Well, I'll agree with you there. George has always been the more emotionally mature one-though Ron definitely gives Fred a run for his money…" Ginny said, trailing off. Carolina heard the back door open and close and a few more voices joined Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's in the kitchen. Probably other Order members…

"We slept together and, well, I thought… I thought he loved me but he said he didn't," Carolina whispered, her eyes burning.

Ginny frowned. "Emotionally stunted wanker is right."

"Gin, I hope you're not talking about your beloved Michael Cor-Carolina?" Carolina's head snapped up to see George Weasley staring at her from the doorway, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. Carolina felt her stomach tighten. If George was here, it could only follow that…

"Lina?" Fred appeared, elbowing George to the side as he stumbled into the room.

Carolina stared at Fred. His hair had grown longer since she had seen him in April. And there were dark circles under his eyes. But in general, he looked the same. In fact, she couldn't help but admire his outfit. She had never seen him in anything apart from his school clothes. His new dragon hide blazer suited him…

"What are you doing here?" he asked, astonishment present in his voice.

"She's a member of the Order, you moron!" Ginny answered for her, and Carolina shot her a grateful look.

"Really?" Fred asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, and from what I've heard, she's had a rough evening so you might want to-"

"Bugger off, Gin," Fred said darkly, stepping forward and waving his hand at her dismissively.

Ginny sniffed affectedly, but ultimately rose from her seat and shuffled out of the room, pulling George with her.

Carolina gulped as Fred stared down at her. "What are you doing here?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"You mean, what am I doing in my own house?" Fred asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I just-I meant that-Ginny said you were living above the shop-"

"Well, they called a meeting here," Fred responded, crossing his arms. "So, you're in the order too?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Fred said heatedly as he raised his eyebrows.

"I…" Carolina started, unsure of what to say. Luckily, she was interrupted from answering as Mrs. Weasley strode into the room only to stop in the center and look around.

"Oh, I've forgotten what I came in here for…" she said trailing off, before shaking her head and exiting from where she came.

"You know what? Why don't we go somewhere more private," Fred muttered, glaring at the entrance to the living room, before grabbing Carolina's wrist and pulling her to her feet. "Follow me," he said, not letting go of her wrist.

Carolina felt her breath catch at his touch and obediently followed him up the steep and crooked stairs. She wasn't sure why she was allowing him to take her wherever they were going but her brain didn't seem to be working at its normal speed, or at all.

Two flights of stairs up and down a narrow hall, Fred pulled her into a small room.

There were two freshly made twin beds on either side of the room but it seemed as if the bedroom had been turned into somebody's storage closet. There was hardly room enough to walk around the stacks of cardboard boxes.

The walls were a faded yellow color and there were rectangles that were slightly brighter, probably where poster's had once hung.

"Was this your bedroom?" Carolina found herself asking as Fred pulled her to sit down on the bed to the left.

"Yeah…" Fred said, eying her carefully. "Lina, what are you doing here?" he repeated his question from earlier.

"Ginny told you, I'm in the Order," Carolina said but he interrupted her.

"Yeah, but then why weren't you at the order meeting last week? I think I would have been told if you were suddenly in the Order," he said haughtily.

"I'm only supposed to come to meetings when I have something to report," Carolina replied suddenly realizing something: The rest of the Order of the Phoenix had regular meetings to which she wasn't invited. Did Dumbledore not trust her?

"What are you reporting on, then?" Fred asked suspiciously.

"I'm supposed to pass down information from my-my boss, um… I… I work for-I was working for-" Carolina hiccuped as tears formed in her eyes, "Amelia Bones but I don't know-I'm-" she stumbled over her words, trying in vain to hold back the tears that were threatening to overflow down her cheeks.

A look of comprehension slid over Fred's face. "Oh," he whispered as his brows knit together in concern. Carolina looked up at him through her bleary eyes. Obviously, he had already heard the news then. Perhaps that's what they'd been talking about in the kitchen…

"Were you… were you there? When it happened?" Fred whispered hoarsely, a look of pain shooting across his face.

Carolina shook her head. Her throat suddenly felt too tight to speak but she managed out: "just after."

Fred's body relaxed in a sigh of relief at her words but Carolina's body shuddered, before convulsing into a fit of tears and launching herself at Fred. His arms were instantly around her, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"It was horrible," she gasped. "She looked, she looked almost awake! Her eyes were open, there was food and glass everywhere and the kettle was on and I had just been talking to her an hour before and she had invited me over for dinner and I almost-if I hadn't had dinner with my parents-oh my god," she sobbed. She wasn't even sure if Fred could understand her between the runny nose and the fact that her face was muffled by his blazer.

"When I got there, it was dark and-and then I found her and hid in the bathroom and I thought whoever-well, they might have still been there, and-" she burst into another fit of tears.

She briefly noticed that Fred was gently sliding his hand up and down her back, that it felt rather comforting.

"It's alright," he said, his voice steady. "You're okay, you're here now."

Carolina gulped in a breath of air. He was right, she was here… but Amelia was gone.

"I'll never… I won't… she was so…" Carolina started, unable to find the right words.

"You'll miss her," Fred said simply. Carolina nodded into his shoulder, before pulling back and wiping her eyes with the back of hands.

"I'm sorry about that," she sniffed, blushing.

"No, Lina, it's alright," Fred replied, resting hand on her shoulder. "Listen, I've been wanting to tell you… I-"

Suddenly the door burst open.

"Oh, there you are!" Mrs. Weasley huffed, as if she'd been searching the whole house for them. "Dumbledore's here. He'd like to talk with you, Carolina."

Carolina nodded numbly, although she did feel a bit better after her cry, and stood up. Fred's hand dropped limply onto the bed in front of him.

Once downstairs, Carolina found it much easier to relay the story of how she had found Amelia to the rest of the order, after telling Fred. There were some wizards and witches Carolina didn't recognize, though she knew most: McGonagall, Professor Snape, Tonks, Kingsley, Mad Eye Moody, strangely enough, Fleur Delacour, even her old Defense teacher, Professor Lupin was there. They were all generally good listeners and Dumbledore was kind and gentle in his questions.

Once finished, she even remembered a tiny detail that had escaped her brain after the trauma of finding her boss splayed on the kitchen.

"Professor," she said after finishing, "another thing. Amelia had told me that… Gawain Robards-he's the Head of the auror department-he might be compromised. She… didn't say how but… do you think he was involved?"

"I do not," said Dumbledore calmly, before adding, "however, if that may be true, it complicates things significantly for your position…"

"How so?"

Dumbledore turned away from her. "Kingsley, what are the chances for Robards to succeed Amelia as Director?"

"Unlikely, though it is still a possibility," the auror said.

"Then certainly she needs to be relocated within the Ministry!" cut in Mad Eye. "If we think Robards is under the imperius, then-"

"We don't know that he's under the imperius, Alastor," Dumbledore reminded him… "though it certainly would put Ms. Flint at a greater risk…"

"Gawain is a very strong wizard, Albus," Kingsley reminded him.

"And Carolina is just out of school!" McGonagall cut across him.

"I have full faith in my student's abilities to hold her own," Professor Snape snarled, contradicting the Transfiguration professor.

Carolina looked wide-eyed towards Fred, sitting squished onto one of the couches with his brother and a rather squat and shady looking wizard in a leather trench coat. He merely shrugged.

"Perhaps," Professor Lupin interjected, calming the room down with his stable voice, "we should ask Carolina what she wants."

Suddenly all the eyes of the room were turned on her. Carolina gulped, uncertain of what to say.

"Would you like to continue your position as the clerk for the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Dumbledore asked placidly.

"Yes, sir," Carolina said meekly. She didn't like how everyone was looking at her. Why couldn't she have had this conversation with Dumbledore privately?

"I must warn you, Ms. Flint, that working for Thicknesse will be significantly harder. You will now be the point person in the Order for your entire department."

Carolina nodded. "I'd still like to continue."

"Very well. I'd like for you to regularly attend meetings, from now on, Carolina. What's more, we have reason to believe that Dolores Umbridge has recently escaped the captivity of the Centaur Herd in the Forbidden Forest and will be rejoining the Ministry as Senior Undersecretary in the near future."

Carolina frowned. Now, _that_ would make her job more difficult.

"Well, if there's nothing more," Mrs. Weasley said, finally standing up, "how about dinner. Albus? Are you staying?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot, Molly, though whatever you are baking smells perfectly mouth-watering… No, alas, I am due for an appointment with an old friend… Severus, if you would come with me," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling genially and gliding out of the living room.

Only a few members of the Order ended up staying; Fleur Delacour, who Carolina soon learned was dating Fred's older brother, Bill-who was also staying for dinner, Tonks, Professor Lupin, and the short, stocky man who had been sitting next to the twins on the couch, Mundungus Fletcher, who Mrs. Weasley didn't seemed thrilled to have sitting at her dining room table.

"I'd better be off," Carolina said, feeling rather miserable. "I've already eaten," she explained to Mr. Weasley as she made her way towards the back door.

"Nonsense! A little something warm will do you good!" she heard Mrs. Weasley shout over to her.

Mr. Weasley shrugged. "My wife has spoken. I suppose you'll have to stay…"

Which is how Carolina found herself squeezed in between Ginny and Professor Lupin with a heaping plate of shepherd's pie in front of her. At some point, Ron had joined them, despite not being allowed in the meeting, and slid in across from Ginny and next to Fred who had remained silent since Carolina left his room.

Every once in a while, Carolina would peak up from her plate and catching him openly staring at her.

"Carolina, apart from tonight's events, how are you finding your job?" Professor Lupin asked kindly.

Carolina smiled… that was something she could talk about. "It's great," she said enthusiastically. "I've gotten to learn how laws are written and how the departments communicate before a Wizengamot vote and about how to properly write a legal brief!"

Professor Lupin chuckled. "I'm glad to see your curiosity for law has expanded in the few years since we last spoke."

Carolina blushed, shyly. "Actually, Professor, I don't know that I would have been so interested if you hadn't pointed me in the right direction…"

"The interest was all your own…" Professor Lupin smiled. "And please, I haven't been your instructor for nearly three years now… Call me Remus."

"I will, Prof-Remus," Carolina replied, grinning as Remus laughed at her slip up.

"You haven't spoken all dinner-what's got your wand in a knot?" Ron asked, turning to Fred, before yelping. "Ow!" he glared at Ginny. "What was that for?!"

"For not keeping your bloody nose out of other people's business," Ginny replied smartly.

"You're bloody mental, you are," Ron replied, and Carolina couldn't help but grin. She looked across the table to see Fred's reaction but he looked just as solemn as before.

Despite having eaten a full dinner just a few hours prior, Carolina found that for some reason, she felt ravenous and devoured her entire plate's worth of food.

One by one, people started to stand up and clear their plates. First, Tonks, who said she had an early morning, and then Remus soon after. Bill and Fleur left together, leaving only Mundungus Fletcher and Carolina as the only remaining non-Weasley guests.

"I'd better get home," Carolina said, after a pause in conversation. It was true. She felt exhausted and was certain that she wouldn't get enough sleep tonight. "Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Weasley."

"Of course, dear, just put your dishes in the sink…"

Carolina obeyed, before turning and saying goodbye to everyone. She wasn't sure whether to pull Fred aside and say goodbye separately but was unwilling to do anything so bold in front of his mother and father, so instead she opted for an awkward little wave, before pulling the back door open and stepping out into the dark garden.

She walked about ten paces away from the house, pulled out her wand and raised it, about to apparate to her living room, when she heard the back door slam.

"Wait!" Fred called, bursting into the night, his footsteps crinkling in the dry grass.

Carolina turned to face him.

"Lina, before you leave, you need to know," he started, finally reaching her. "You're all I've been able to think about… and I've been doing a lot of thinking, recently… and well… I was a tosser, wasn't I? I didn't know what I was saying and you… well, to be honest, you caught me off guard a bit," he rambled. "But what I'm trying to say is… I was wrong! I did love you-no, I do love you!" He managed out, his voice ringing desperately into the dark.

Carolina took a breath in. She didn't know what she had wanted to hear from him, but… she wasn't sure if this was it. It was almost too much, considering the entire night's events.

Carolina opened her mouth to respond, but Fred cut in again.

"And before you say anything… I just… I've never said that to anyone and at the time… I didn't know that's how I felt but I do now and just… will you forgive me?"

Carolina took a breath in and nodded. "Fred I… this is a lot, you know? I just… I need to go home. I need to go to sleep." She knew she probably sounded callous but was he really professing his love to her on the night she found her boss's dead body and was then interrogated three different times about the traumatic event?

"I understand," Fred said. His hand jerked out as if to grab hers, before dropping back to his side.

Carolina sighed. She really didn't want to have a conversation about their relationship right now… but he had been so kind and thoughtful to her earlier.

She reached out and took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll see you soon, okay? We can talk then."

She smiled at him, hoping he would understand that she had heard him… but that she just needed to be alone to process everything.

A moment later, she dropped his hand, turned on the spot and with a sudden pop, apparated away.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Thanks for all of the reviews everyone! What did you all think of Carolina's introduction to the Order? Just thought I'd mention, the timeline in the story is going to speed up a bit over the next few chapters. I only wanted to include events that felt relevant to their relationship/the story arc and I also wanted to limit myself to 50 chapters (because otherwise... I would go insane trying to write this. As it is, I only have two more chapters to write and, while I am super proud of myself, I'm also just sooooooo ready to be finished with this project!) Anyway, that's why books 6-7 are going to be squeezed into 10 chapters while book 5 took up a whopping 18 chapters._ _Hope you are all okay with that haha! I don't think the following 10 chapters suffer at all from this decision, but if you think otherwise, let me know! I love hearing from you! :-)_


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter Forty-one**

* * *

Carolina stared through the golden windows of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The store inside was bustling, despite it being nearly closing time. It was probably due the fact that it was the final week of summer vacation for Hogwarts students, Carolina thought to herself. Just one year ago, she would have been preparing to return to Hogwarts too. Her trunk would have already been packed.

As she stared wistfully through the windows at the happy families testing products on each other, she couldn't help but feel old. She was only one year older than some of the students in there… but… so much had happened since this time last year. She'd found her boss, her friend, dead in her kitchen, she'd taken her N.E.W.T.s and graduated, she'd rebelled against Umbridge, she'd been made Head Girl, then been stripped of her badge, she'd been published in an editorial, she'd had sex for the first time, she'd fallen in love… though she wasn't quite sure where she stood now.

Which is why she was lingering outside of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at quarter to eight. She quickly sidestepped away from the door as an older wizard pushed out, his son in tow, laughing at something or other.

With a wave of bravery washing over, Carolina grabbed the door handle before it could swing shut fully and slid into the bright shop. It was now or never, she supposed.

Carolina took a breath in, bombarded by the lights, the movements, the chattering of the people. Even the smell of the shop was overpowering… It smelled like… gunpowder and cloves… Like Fred.

She peered around, squinting, in a feeble attempt to lessen the hullabaloo that was bombarding her brain, and searching for a swathe of red hair.

She could feel a headache coming on. This wasn't surprising as she'd been staring at legal documents with very, _very_ fine print for the past ten hours and had been so busy that she'd hardly had time for a sip of water, let alone a full meal. Such were her days at the Ministry now that Thicknesse was her boss. They were understaffed, Scrimgeour was riding them harder than ever after Amelia's murder to show the public that he was working on stopping Voldemort, Thicknesse liked things done in a very particular way, and of course, Umbridge's return hadn't made anything easier.

Carolina grimaced, rubbing her temples and moved into a less crowded section of the store. Unable to spot Fred, she decided that she might as well have a look about the shop. Eventually, the crowd would have to thin out and she'd have a better chance finding him then. Besides, she looked down at her watch; it would be closing in about 13 minutes.

She examined a shelf with a display on muggle magic tricks and practical jokes. She daintily picked up a plastic rubber sac, about the size of a pancake, uncertain of what it was.

"I didn't picture you as the whoopie cushion type," a voice said from behind her and Carolina spun around.

There he stood, his classic smirk in place, one eyebrow raised and his hands casually placed in the pockets of his dashing dragon skin suit pants, as if nothing had changed over the past four odd months.

"A whoopie cushion?" Carolina asked, confused.

"Yup," Fred said, taking the rubber sac from her and blowing into it until it inflated to be about two inches thick. "What you do, is you put it under someone's seat and…" he squeezed it between his palms. The whoopie cushion let out a loud farting sound, causing Carolina to jump backwards in alarm.

"What I would have given to have known about these boys while I was still at Hogwarts," Fred sighed. "Would've worked wonders on Umbridge," he added, before tossing the whoopie cushion back onto it's rightful shelf.

Carolina nodded, before opening her mouth. "Fred, I-"

"Lina, I've-" Fred said, at the same time, before shutting his mouth and blushing.

"You first," Carolina demanded, crossing her arms self-consciously.

"No, you can go first if you want," Fred replied looking rather bashful, an expression Carolina wasn't used to seeing on his face.

"Oy! Freddy!" George's voice called over the din. "Cash register two!"

Fred's face turned regretful.

"Can you stay for a bit?" he asked Carolina hopefully. "It's just… ten to closing and-"

"Yeah, of course," Carolina replied, secretly grateful that they would be able to talk somewhere more private and less crowded. "I'll just wait here."

"Ace," Fred grinned, back to his normal self, before scampering over to the check out to assist his twin.

As Carolina waited, watching the families trickle out, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at everything that the twins had accomplished. She had known that they had been well prepared. Hell, she had even helped them prepare in the weeks before their departure of Hogwarts, but this was truly astounding.

The sheer amount of products they were selling was incredible, not to mention that, if the picked over shelves were any indication, they had nearly sold out many of their items. And then, Carolina didn't think she'd ever been in a store this busy. Not even Honeyduke's on a Hogsmeade weekend could compete with their store five minutes before closing.

Finally, at about ten after, the last few shoppers exited, their shopping bags laden with goodies and Carolina hesitantly walked over to the cash registers where the twins and an awfully pretty blonde woman were stacking galleons, sickles and knuts.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we're actually closed," the blonde said, the first to look up.

"Oh! No, Verity, this is my friend Carolina," Fred quickly cut in. "Carolina, this is our newest hire, Verity."

"Hey," Carolina said, nodding at the girl, before turning to George and smiling. "Hi, George."

He winked back, before saying, "Freddy, I reckon Ver and I have a handle on closing shop if you want to bugger off."

"Right-o," Fred said, not needing to be told twice as he leaped over the counter. "Want a tour then?"

"Sure," Carolina replied, secretly grateful that they weren't just going to push on through into what she had actually come here to talk to him about. In fact, she was rather self conscious about it all. The last time she had seen him had been over a month ago and she had been afraid that he might be significantly pissed off. She had said "see you soon" and this wasn't exactly soon, was it? Still, this had been only the second night she hadn't been at the office pushing paperwork since Amelia's death, the first of which she had spent sleeping in a pile of dirty laundry that had accumulated on her bed.

"So, you've already seen the Muggle tricks section, over here we have our skiving snackboxes, of which you are familiar," Fred said, gesturing to a brightly colored display of the many candies that would help you escape class. "And over here we've got our dark detectors display… we've made our own sneak-o-scopes, you know," he continued, pointing out the golden spy-glasses. "Peruvian darkness powder, mighty useful too, and then we have the Pygmy Puffs which we added to the inventory just last week after Ginny went mental over one. Then we have our love potions-"

"You're selling amortentia?" Carolina scoffed, looking aghast. "Unregulated usage is illegal."

"Not amortentia," Fred replied, raising his eyebrows. "Just… things like getting someone to think of you… temporary enamoration…"

Carolina picked up the tiny bottle, eying it warily as she investigated the ingredients list.

"I hope you're not thinking of using that," Fred said, misinterpreting her interest. "I already am thinking about you nearly half the day and-unless, there was somebody else-"

"I would never!" Carolina shook her head, quickly placing the bottle back. "And, there's nobody else, you prat," she added blushing, though as she looked at Fred's face, she could see his worry shining through. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner…" she whispered, looking down at her shoes.

"'See you soon' normally implies that you'll, you know, see someone soon," Fred said, chuckling.

"I'm really sorry," Carolina said, finally looking back up into his eyes, hoping that he would believe her. "I just needed some time at first and then with Thicknesse, work piled up and then Umbridge came back and started sending me on these bloody errands around the building and most nights I don't get out of there until well after ten and I couldn't just barge in here while the shop was closed and set off all those dark detectors and whatnot-" Carolina rambled quickly.

"Lina, it's okay," Fred grinned, seemingly put at ease. That was something she always admired about him. He never needed a drawn out apology, and usually dropped things rather quickly; a trait that hardly any of her Slytherin peers had.

Carolina let out a sigh of relief, feeling much better now that she knew he wasn't mad at her. "It's pretty magical," she said, before motioning around them, "the store. You should be proud."

"We are," Fred said slyly, his grin turning into a smirk. "Impressed?"

"Frankly, a little," Carolina smiled back at him, before they fell into a silence, the weight of what she'd come to discuss with him hanging over their conversation.

Suddenly, her stomach let out a growl and Carolina lowered her eyes again, a wave of embarrassment washing over her.

"Hungry?" Fred asked.

"A bit," Carolina revealed sheepishly.

"Come on, I know a spot," Fred said, taking her hand and leading her out of the shop.

They walked up Diagon Alley, which was significantly calmer now after sunset. Many of the shops were closing, if not already closed and the street was beginning to empty.

As they passed Ollivander's, heading towards the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, Carolina couldn't help but notice her hands awkwardly swinging at her sides. Her palms itched and she briefly thought about reaching out to take his hand but decided against it. He had said some very nice things the last time she had seen him but… he could have changed his mind, she supposed.

"I hope you didn't mean the Leaky Cauldron when you said you knew a spot, because then I know a spot too," Carolina said; a rather feeble attempt at conversation, in her opinion.

"That'd be a little obvious, no?" Fred grinned down at her. "No, I hope you're alright with going into Muggle London."

Carolina grinned. If there was anything she was okay with, it was that. She relished the walk and tube journey from her apartment on Diagon Alley to the Ministry every day.

"Have you been on the underground?" Carolina asked as they walked past an entrance.

Fred shook his head and Carolina continued. "Oh! You have to! It's magical. I remember Professor Burbage's unit on 'public transportation' and Muggles are rather genius at it-did you ever take Muggle studies?"

Fred shook his head again and Carolina bouldered on. "Right, you would have been in my classes. Well, you can take the tube almost anywhere. It's been underground since 1890 but they had trains and trolleys before that too. And it's way more expansive than our floo network. I mean, there are loads more Muggles and even if they could floo, they would clog up the whole system… Anyway, they have all these tunnels built underground with platforms and the trains are automated and run on electricity which is marvelous and you can get on with this little piece of paper-" Carolina stopped suddenly, rifling through her bag and pulling out her travelcard admiringly. "I really must write Professor Burbage because I haven't been able to figure out how it works exactly." She stared puzzled at the little piece of pink paper in her hand.

"You sound like my dad," Fred chuckled.

"Well, that's rather rude," Carolina said, looking up at him shrewdly, before stowing the travelcard once again in her bag.

"No, no, he's just fascinated with Muggle stuff too. Has a battery collection an' all."

"Hm. Personally, I wouldn't collect batteries. Bit useless on their own. They only work with a circuit which is a loop of electricity-" Carolina rambled, uncertain of what to talk about.

"Here we are!" Fred exclaimed and Carolina was secretly glad he had cut her off.

She looked up at the neon sign hanging above the storefront, before peering in through the steamy windows. It was very small, with only two tables and a counter, and it seemed a little dirty but the smell… she had never smelled anything like it before in her life.

"Ever had Chinese takeaway?" Fred asked.

Carolina shook her head.

"You're in for a treat then," Fred said, pushing his way through the glass door. Carolina followed, setting off a tinkling bell above them.

"Right, can I get an order of potstickers? And some beef and broccoli, veggie chow mein… I suppose I should get something for George too," he muttered to himself, before adding, "and some pork fried rice."

"How did you know about this place?" Carolina whispered, after he had paid and they had sat at a table, waiting for their order.

Fred shrugged. "Verity showed me about a month ago."

Carolina scowled, thinking of Fred coming here and eating dinner with the pretty blonde, but Fred didn't seem to notice as he continued.

"She's muggleborn. Showed me how to use their money too. Grew up in London, you see, and takeaway is so easy. Maybe an even better Muggle invention than your beloved tube."

"Not possible," Carolina quipped back bitterly, unable to erase the image of Fred and Verity sitting together at one of the small tables, steam from the kitchen pouring around them.

"Anyway, it was bloody brilliant that she did, showed me this, that is, because after leaving Hogwarts, I found out how shite of a cook I am."

Carolina laughed at his expression. "For some reason, that doesn't surprise me."

"George is loads better. I don't know how it happened. I was forced to help mum out in the kitchen just as much as he was and none of it stuck with me."

"Is your mum a good cook then?" Carolina asked.

"Oh, the best," Fred sighed. "Didn't appreciate it while I was at Hogwarts because, you know, treacle tart at every meal… but George an' I... I reckon we probably go 'round there twice a week now."

"My mum uses a house elf," Carolina said sourly, thinking of her last meal with her parents, just before finding Amelia. She hadn't been invited back since, and didn't think she would be anytime soon.

"You alright?" Fred asked, obviously catching on to her change in mood.

Carolina opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by the shrill call of the waitress letting them know that their order was ready.

Fred collected the bag of their food and they set out, heading back towards the Leaky Cauldron in a companionable silence.

Carolina could see the dingy pub about two blocks ahead of them and suddenly felt rather trapped. They would go back to the pub, back down Diagon Alley, into the shop, have dinner with George, and probably continue to talk about nothing in particular until she left to go home and she wouldn't have gotten what she'd came for.

"Lina?" Fred asked, turning back and looking at her. She hadn't realized she'd stopped walking.

Well, it was now or never, she thought bravely to herself.

"Did you… did you, erm, mean what you said when we were at the Burrow?" Carolina asked, stumbling over her words. Maybe she wasn't as brave as she thought.

Fred's face quickly turned from a quizzical to a serious expression and he walked towards her, closing the gap between them.

"I did."

"And you, erm, still feel the same way you did?" she rasped, barely able to form the words. She knew her cheeks must have been bright red.

Fred's face contorted into his usual grin. Was he enjoying her discomfort?

"I do."

"Right, so, I reckon we should, you know-"

"Snog?" Fred cut in mischievously.

"Fred!"

"Sorry, what were you going to say?"

"That we should maybe… talk about it, or something?"

"Lina," Fred said, tucking a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear with his right hand. "I don't know what there is to talk about. Last time I saw you I told you I loved you. Time before that, you told me the same. Do you still feel the same way?" he asked, suddenly uncertain.

"I-yes," Carolina whispered. Despite the anger that she had felt towards him months ago as they had stood in the prefects' bathroom, Carolina did still love him, a realization to which she had arrived at her boss's funeral. Life was too fleeting to let her pride get the best of her. So what if it had taken Fred longer to realize he loved her? He eventually got there, and Carolina couldn't control his emotions… she could only control her own and her own were telling her that yes, she unequivocally still loved Fred Weasley.

"Then it's sorted," Fred said, grinning and straightening his back. "You love me and I love you. Shall we have dinner?"

"Fred," Carolina groaned, before reaching up and pulling him by the shirt collar. She couldn't believe she had fallen for someone so insufferable, she thought to herself as her lips found his.

She could feel Fred grin into the kiss as he dropped the bag of takeaway and ran his hands through her long dark hair, eventually settling on her back.

Carolina wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer and relishing the taste of him. It had been so long…

"Get a room!" she heard someone yell, and she pulled herself away from Fred, blushing. Across the street, a few drunk men… only slightly older than she and Fred were ogling the pair.

"Shall we?" Fred asked, picking up the forgotten takeaway, before offering Carolina his hand.

She smiled, taking it. "Sure."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hope everyone liked this chapter! It was so sweet to write. As always, thanks for the reviews and the support!_


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-two**

* * *

"You're sure I'm not going to be imposing?"

"Positive. Now, Lina, stop pacing."

"I don't think your mother likes me. Last time I was there, right after… you know. Well, she wasn't exactly warm and-" Carolina grabbed at her cardigan, pulling it off of her frantically only to rummage through her dresser.

"She knows I like you," Fred said, his eyebrows raised as he watched from Carolina's bed. "That'll be enough for her."

"Really?" Carolina asked, pulling out a different sweater. "You don't think she'd prefer you dated a Gryffindor? Or a Hufflepuff even?"

"Carolina, we've been out of school for over six months… our houses don't matter. And besides, she knows you're in the Order."

"Right. And at every Order meeting she doesn't even acknowledge me. Merlin, am I sweating? I feel like I'm sweating!"

"Lina," Fred said, finally springing off her mattress and striding over to her. "You look fine. Listen," he continued, "she just doesn't know you. She'll love you once she gets to know you more."

Carolina swallowed her reply, doubt still curdling in her stomach. She had heard stories of Mrs. Weasley's kind, caring, warm, and even overbearing, nature from her children but had yet to experience it first hand.

"Besides," Fred added on, grinning, "Fleur will be there. Mum hardly dislikes you more than her."

"So she does dislike me," Carolina sniffed affectedly.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. She just…" Fred paused to think, absently running his hands up Carolina's shoulders. "She's a bit overprotective, yeah? And I reckon she'd be opposed to any, er, lady friend I brought round merely out of principle. Still thinks of us all as little-"

"Lady friend?" Carolina interrupted him, raising an eyebrow.

Fred grinned at finally seeming to have broken her out of her anxious state. "Yeah. Lady friend."

"And here I was thinking I was your girlfriend," Carolina smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Well, that would be quite the assumption, seeing as I haven't asked you to be my girlfriend," Fred replied as his arms snaked around her waist.

"We seem to be making a habit of this." Carolina grinned, thinking back to the day in March when he'd rescued her from detention and brought her to the rock by the lake and asked her to be his girlfriend, before leaning in and pressing her lips against his.

"We do, don't we?" Fred muttered between kisses.

"I reckon I'd better start establishing boundaries with blokes before I make out with them for months at a time."

"Bit late for that," Fred chuckled, pulling her back in.

"Oh!" Carolina said as she took a step back. "I don't want to be late. Then she'd really have a reason to dislike me!"

"Side along?" Fred asked, reaching out his arm.

"Sure," Carolina nodded as she picked up her wand and handbag from her bedside table.

She wrapped her arm around his, clutching his upper arm for stability. Side along apparation wasn't her favorite mode of transportation, but she wasn't sure she could picture the Burrow as clearly as Fred could and didn't want to risk a splinching on Christmas eve. That would hardly be impressive to the formidable Molly Weasley.

The duo disappeared from Carolina's bedroom with a loud crack and reappeared moments later just by the vegetable garden outside the Burrow.

Carolina could practically feel the blood pumping through her veins. It felt thick with her anxiety. She gulped. She didn't know why she wanted Mrs. Weasley's approval so much.

Fred, seemingly able to feel her nervousness gave her hand a light squeeze. "Ron and Harry are here for the Holidays. George and Ginny too. There'll be plenty of people who like you…"

"Merlin, she really doesn't like me, does she…" Carolina muttered under her breath, but nonetheless followed after Fred as he pushed open the kitchen door and stepped into the warmly lit room.

"Fred!" Carolina stepped back as her boyfriend was enveloped in a suffocating hug by his mother. "Looking a bit tired… you and George taking care of yourselves?"

"Wotcher, Carolina!" Carolina grinned as Ginny gave her a warm hug as well.

"Happy Christmas, Ginny," Carolina replied.

"Ah, yes, hello, Carolina," Mrs. Weasley supplied, though she refrained from the bear-hug she had given her son.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Weasley," Carolina said nervously. Was it her imagination or did Fred's mother's smile not quite reach her sharp eyes?

"How's school, Gin?" Fred asked, moving further into the room and plucking a pig-in-a-blanket from the long kitchen table.

"We beat Slytherin," Ginny said cheerfully. "By 250 points. Sorry, Carolina," she added as an afterthought.

Carolina shrugged. "That's quite the differential."

"Ron barely let in any quaffles," Harry said as he too joined the small group in kitchen, followed by the aforementioned keeper.

"Hi, Fred. Hi, Carolina," Ron said, blushing slightly.

"And he's got a girlfriend!" George added, padding into the kitchen that was beginning to get uncomfortably packed.

"Really? I didn't know there were any blind girls at Hogwarts-" Fred began.

"Oy!" Ron interrupted.

"-Though maybe she's a first year. Ron are you dating a first year?"

"I'm not dating a bloody first year!" Ron yelled, red-faced, as Ginny and George cackled.

"That's it, if you aren't helping me with the roast, I want you out of the kitchen!" Mrs. Weasley cut across them, before adding, "Fred put that down!"

Fred hastily returned the roll he had picked up back to its rightful spot.

"Can I help with anything?" Carolina asked hopefully.

"Better not, dear," Mrs. Weasley said dismissively, moving past her towards the oven.

Carolina's shoulders sagged as she followed the rest of the group into the sitting room.

"Oi! Bill!" Fred called across the room as they entered.

Bill was sitting with Fleur and Mr. Weasley by the fire. He raised his eyebrows at his younger brother's beckoning gesture.

"I thought I'd introduce you to my girlfriend," Fred said after Bill begrudgingly pulled himself from the couch and trotted over.

"Fred, I've met Carolina. She's in the order," Bill said, an exasperated smile playing on his face.

"Yeah, well, you haven't met her as my _girlfriend_ ," Fred continued, lacing his fingers through Carolina's.

"You think I didn't know you two were dating?" Bill laughed. "Mum's only going on about it in the spare moments when she's out of breath from discussing Fleur and me."

"Ah, Carolina," Fleur said, joining them as Harry took her place next to Mr. Weasley. "You are staying ze night, no?"

Carolina looked over at Fred. "Are we?" He hadn't mentioned that to her… Only that'd he'd like for them to be at the Burrow for Christmas morning and eve. But sleeping over? She wasn't sure that was the best idea.

Fred's face blushed. "Er, yeah, I told mum we might."

"Well, zen it seems we will be… 'ow you say?" she turned towards Bill.

"Bunking together," Bill finished for her. "Mum's put you and Fleur up with Ginny and me with Fred and George."

"Seriously? What does she think? That we'll-" Carolina quickly closed her mouth mid-sentence as Mrs. Weasley stalked into the room, followed closely by Carolina's favorite defense professor, Remus Lupin.

"Can I get you anything to drink, Remus? Mulled wine? Gillywater?"

"Nothing for now, Molly," Remus smiled weakly. He looked tired; there were deep-set bags under his eyes.

Pleasantries were made and once again, Carolina found herself being told by her old Professor to call him Remus.

"You aren't my student anymore, you know," he added with a chuckle as they sat down by the tree.

"Old habits die hard, I suppose," Carolina blushed, before adding. "I haven't seen you at any of the Order meetings lately. Is… is everything alright?"

Remus sighed and his weariness showed on his face. "I've been undercover for the last few months actually. Sniffing out whether or not any of my fellow werewolves are sympathetic to our cause."

Carolina felt a shiver roll up her spine. She didn't like thinking about her old professor as a werewolf. In fact, she didn't like thinking about them at all.

As if sensing her nerves, Remus smiled kindly. "Though I think my tenure with them has come to an end," he continued. "They are far more supportive of Lord Voldemort. Apparently he has promised them free range of muggleborns once he takes power…"

Carolina gulped. If there was anything scarier to her than a pack of werewolves, it was the idea of werewolves that had permission to attack whenever they wanted…

"But… don't they regret themselves being attacked? Surely they wouldn't want to continue the cycle of… to harm innocents, would they?" Carolina questioned.

"Regretfully, many of my peers seem to hold a severe amount of resentment towards our government and the sanctions against us…"

Carolina thought for a moment. That made sense. Why would they put any trust into a system that had failed to support their needs and had only isolated them further? "Do you think they would be more willing to work with Dumbledore if he could promise an unbiased government?"

"Perhaps," Remus smiled, "though I'm not sure how likely that is to happen."

Carolina sighed. "Not while Umbridge is still there. She's actually working on a new draft of an anti-centaur bill right now though I'm not sure Scrimgeour's going to sign it. I've read a draft and it's absolute bollocks. Nothing factual in all 22 pages."

"Well, that surprises no one," said Fred as he and George sidled over to her and Remus.

"Nothing factual in her approach to teaching either," added George.

"No, but she's really off her rocker these days," Carolina commented, before something caught her eye. "Hang on. Is that a garden gnome?"

"A very well disguised garden gnome, yes," Fred grinned as Remus chuckled.

"He doesn't look too happy," Carolina frowned.

"Oh, he's alright. We promised him Christmas pudding if he stayed up there," George said.

"How very enterprising!" Remus laughed and Carolina couldn't help but chuckle along. They had dressed the unhappy gnome up in an angel's costume, complete with wings and a sparkly little halo.

"Mum wants us all at the table," Ron announced, reentering the room.

Thankfully, after a bout of musical chairs (that had Carolina thinking that Ginny _really_ didn't want to sit next to Fleur), Carolina found herself seated between Fred to her right and Mr. Weasley to her left at the head of the long table with Ginny across from her.

With a flick of her wand, Mrs. Weasley summoned all of the food that had been floating on heavily laden trays to come soaring over to the table so that they could serve themselves.

After piling on a heaping amount of turkey, stuffing, pigs-in-a-blanket, brussel sprouts, potatoes, redcurrant jam, gravy and parsnips onto her plate, Carolina turned to Mr. Weasley.

While she might not be able to change Fred's mother's mind about her, she could definitely sway Mr. Weasley in her favor, she thought, while remembering that Fred had mentioned his father's battery collection on the first night they had eaten Chinese take-away so many months ago.

"Mr. Weasley," Carolina began, "Fred told me that you know quite a lot about Muggle technology and, I've always been curious; how do telephones work? I've never used one and…"

"Oh!" Mr. Weasley said, smiling kindly at her, obviously excited to share his bit of wisdom. "They are quite tricky to understand. Why, I don't think I could have fully wrapped my head around them without Harry here." He motioned to Harry who, along with Ron, had dug in so aggressively to his dinner plate that he was having a hard time chewing.

"Anyway, it's all about radio waves-the same that we use for the wizarding wireless, in fact…"

Carolina nodded appreciatively as he rambled on. Arthur Weasley was a kind man. She hoped Fred knew how lucky he was to have a family like this.

She chanced a glance over to him and smiled, watching him tease Ron about the gravy on his face.

Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of sadness swept through her. She hadn't spent Christmas with her family since fifth year. And even then, it was never as lively or as loving as this.

She had told her parents she had to work over Christmas, in an attempt to keep her romantic life just out of reach of their judgemental ideologies, but they hadn't even had the decency to appear remotely disappointed.

Carolina felt her eyes prickle, and she blinked, hoping to keep the silly tears at bay.

"My dear, are you quite alright?" Mr. Weasley asked, pausing from his pontifications on electricity.

"Erm, yeah," Carolina smiled and took a gulp of water. "Bit of turkey went down wrong," she lied, before smiling again.

Dinner was a relatively uneventful affair. Or, Carolina supposed, as uneventful as anything could be in the Weasley household. George had hexed Ginny's potatoes to scream in terror every time she bit into one, which had been entertaining for the first few potatoes but had grown quite tiresome soon thereafter.

"Thank you for having me for Christmas, Mrs. Weasley," Carolina said, flicking her wand delicately so that the plates stacked themselves neatly. She had insisted on helping Fred's mother wash and dry the dishes after the Christmas pudding.

"Were your parents on holiday, dear? I expect they could afford it," Mrs. Weasley responded shrewdly, not looking over at Carolina from the sink.

"Er, no, I just… Well, Fred invited me and I thought it would be nice-"

"So your parents are sitting at home this evening without you?"

"Oh, er, I suppose…"

"And you don't feel at all guilty about that?" Mrs. Weasley responded, finally turning to inspect Carolina, her hand resting on her hip.

Carolina felt her cheeks burn; she was at a loss for words.

"I think one should be with their family during at Christmas," Mrs. Weasley said testily, turning back to the dishes.

Carolina gulped, her throat dry.

"Mum, mind if I still Lina for a mo'?" Fred asked, rushing into the kitchen with a grin on his face, obviously unaware of the tension in the room that felt at once quite lonely and far too tight to Carolina.

"Of course, dear! On you go." She waved her hand dismissively, as if nothing had been said earlier that might have had any effect on Carolina.

Carolina attempted to return Fred's smile as she followed him out of the room, though she imagined her expression to more closely resemble a grimace than a grin.

To her surprise, they bypassed the living room, where the rest of the family and Remus were sitting, and continued to the staircase.

"Mum had George and me tidying up our room so that Bill could fit in with us and I found something interesting," he said, pulling her up the stairs behind him.

They ascended a few floors, before entering his old bedroom. It looked quite neater than the last time Carolina had been there. No boxes of clutter and no stains on the floor. The beds were neatly made and a cot was set up between the two.

Carolina sat down on what she remembered to be Fred's bed as he walked over to the dresser, where about ten pieces of parchment were stacked.

"Look! It's your letters!" he grinned, holding them out to her. "I thought I'd lost them but I suppose I just left them under the mattress."

She took them delicately. It felt so long ago, writing to him. Only a year ago, but she felt like a completely different person. These didn't even sound like things she would say. Her world was a lot heavier now.

She looked up at him, a watery smile filling her face.

"Fred…" She stood up and wrapped her arms around him, pushing herself onto her tiptoes and delicately bringing her mouth to his.

He responded enthusiastically, pulling her tighter, his right hand moving to the back of her head like a moth to a flame.

After a moment, Carolina pulled away.

"Fred," she repeated, "I really do think your mother hates me."

"No she doesn't," Fred countered, leaning back in, but Carolina took a step back.

"Is the entire reason you brought me up here so we could snog?"

"Is it horrible if I did?" Fred grinned cheekily.

Carolina rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless, but her smile quickly evaporated with her next sentence. "I don't think she wants me here."

"Why would you say that?"

Carolina took a breath in before telling him of her short conversation with Mrs. Weasley.

By the time she finished, Fred had a thoughtful look on his face.

"I think… I think that… that what she said is more of a reflection on her than you."

"What do you mean?" Carolina asked.

"I'm not sure she was talking about you. I think she was talking about Percy," he frowned, before adding "and she was just taking out her… feelings… on you."

"Oh." That did make sense to Carolina.

"I don't think you should take it personally."

"Right."

"I mean, there is absolutely nothing not to like about you," Fred said, stepping closer and reaching for her again. "You notice that none of her actual family offered to help with the dishes? I think when this holiday is over, she'll come 'round."

"I hope so," Carolina sighed into Fred's arms.

Slowly, he brought his mouth back to hers. He tasted sweet, with just a whiff of something spicier.

"Were you drinking firewhiskey?" Carolina asked, pausing her kisses for a moment.

"Maybe," Fred replied, the sides of his mouth perking up as he leaned down to kiss her again.

She gladly welcomed his mouth, as he deftly maneuvered them between the little cot so that they were sitting down on his bed once again.

A few minutes later, and he was on top of her and Carolina was out of breath.

"I was rather looking forward to sleeping over at yours, you know," Carolina said, smirking.

"If I had known Mum would put you with Ginny and Fleur I wouldn't have accepted the invitation to stay over," Fred groaned. "Maybe I'll sneak over after midnight," he added with a wink.

"You will do no such thing," Carolina responded harshly though it was hard for her to keep straight face. "I really can't chance giving your mother any more reasons to dislike me. And I suppose I can settle for sleeping over tomorrow."

"Settle for it? I thought you rather enjoyed yourself last time…" Fred trailed off while kissing her neck.

He wasn't wrong, Carolina thought to herself as she felt her face warm up. She and Fred had formed a nice habit over the past few months. She'd get off from work late and head to the shop where he'd have takeaway waiting-or if they were lucky, dinner by George. And they'd eat on the couch and talk and she'd help the twins with their products if she didn't have extra work and then just after midnight she'd tell him she was tired and he would tell her it was too late to apparate home and that she should just spend the night and despite the iffy logic of this statement, Carolina would more often than not agree. Then, they would retire to his bedroom and he'd give her a t-shirt and they'd spend the next hour or so snogging and cuddling and… Carolina's face burned even hotter thinking about it. Things had gotten much, much better since that night in the prefect's bathroom…

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Fred's head had snapped up and Carolina scooted her body out from under his.

"Mum wants us all downstairs to listen to Celestina," George said, poking his head into the room. "Might want to fix your hair a bit, Freddy," he added with a sly grin, before retreating back into the hall.

"Your mother likes Celestina Warbeck?" Carolina asked, smoothing out the skirt of her dress that had crumpled beneath Fred's eager body.

"Unfortunately."

"Mine too," Carolina groaned. "She even dragged Marcus and me to a bloody concert when I was six. Marcus put a flobberworm in his ear halfway through so that they would have to take him to St. Mungo's." Carolina found herself grinning at the memory as they descended the stairs. Her brother had been complaining through the entire concert.

"Not too bright, your brother," Fred chuckled.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose," Carolina responded wistfully thinking of a time before Marcus had nothing but derision and contempt for her.

They re-entered the sitting room and Fred led her over to the couch to sit by Fleur and Bill. Harry seemed to be having a serious discussion with Remus and Ron, Ginny and George were all investigating the mighty pile of presents beneath the Christmas tree.

"Oh, I love this one!" Mrs. Weasley squealed as Carolina and Fred sat down. "Arthur, could you turn the wireless a bit louder?"

"Firewhiskey?" Bill offered, as Mr. Weasley adjusted the volume with a flick of his wand.

"Merlin, yes," Carolina gushed, hoping that the alcohol would help muddle the obnoxious vibrato ringing about the room.

"I see you are as beeg a fan of zis music as I am," Fleur whispered conspiratorially, handing Carolina a small glass filled with the amber liquid.

"Massive fan," Carolina drawled, before letting out a cough. Firewhiskey always surprised her with its punch.

"Pass me one too, Bill," Fred said.

"Eet ees just 'orrible, non?" Fleur continued. "You English are almost as bad as zee Americans. In France, we care more about melody zan… 'ow you say… performance?"

Carolina nodded, uncertain of what she could add. She really didn't know very much about French music. Or music in general.

"You obviously haven't heard the Weird Sisters, then," Ginny cut in sharply from by the fire.

"Of course I 'ave 'eard ze Weird Sisters. Zey played at ze Yule Ball," Fleur countered, obviously in a rather sour mood.

Carolina could only imagine. Fleur was a year older than her and was dating a much older man and was probably feeling belittled by having to sleep with her boyfriend's kid sister and her boyfriend's brother's girlfriend as if they were having a slumber party. And Celestina Warbeck was just the icing on the cake.

"What Ginny's saying, I think," Carolina started, "is that Celestina is the absolute worst of British music. There's other good stuff out there, I'm sure."

Fleur merely shrugged, before taking a large gulp of firewhiskey and launching into another critique of the singer's major flaws.

Luckily, the Christmas special broadcast only lasted for about half an hour more, by which time Mr. Weasley was nearly dozing in his armchair and Professor Lupin was staring stonily into the flickering flames of the hearth.

Soon after, Mrs. Weasley sent them all to bed, saying that they needed a full night's sleep for Christmas day.

"Fleur, Carolina, Ginny will show you to her room," Fred's mother said stiffly as she re-entered the room after bidding Remus goodbye, obviously not trusting her sons to show their two beauxs to their sleeping quarters.

Carolina trotted up the stairs, keeping an eye on Fleur who, just ahead of her, was a bit wobbly on her feet, perhaps due to her intake of firewhiskey.

"I'm on the third floor," Ginny said from up ahead as they reached the landing.

Before she could step onto the next staircase, Carolina felt her a hand grab hers and with a tug, spin her around.

"You're not going to bed without saying goodnight to me, are you?" Fred smirked.

Carolina laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

He paused, grinning at her, and Carolina couldn't help but smile back at his expression.

"I love you," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Carolina beamed. She never tired of hearing him say that. "I love you too."

"Night, Lina," he said with a wink, before disappearing into the second floor bathroom.

"G'night," she said quietly, before turning back around and racing up the remaining stairs.

* * *

"I see you did not get one either." Carolina opened her eyes to Fleur's penetrating gaze.

"One what?"

"One of zees sweaters," Fleur replied, motioning to Ginny who was wearing a handknit green sweater with a broomstick embroidered into it.

Carolina sat up from her cot. "Oh… I suppose not, no."

Fleur shrugged, before standing up and exiting the room.

"I hope you're not as put off by it as she is," Ginny whispered upon the french woman's retreat.

"Oh, well, I wasn't expecting a, er, sweater," Carolina said.

"She's been going on about it for the past twenty minutes." Ginny looked especially peeved. "Anyway, breakfast is on downstairs."

"Right. Thanks, Ginny," Carolina smiled weakly at the younger girl. She hoped she and Fleur weren't putting Ginny out too much.

After Ginny left the small room, Carolina quickly pulled on her dress from the night before, slipped into her shoes, and headed downstairs.

"Happy Christmas, Lina!" Fred beamed as she slid in next to him at the dining table, before leaning over and planting a rather enthusiastic kiss on her mouth.

"Fred! Not at the table!" his mother scolded, although she seemed to be in a much better mood than last night as she puttered about the kitchen.

Carolina's face turned beet red as she eyed her boyfriend shrewdly.

He merely shrugged, shooting her his trademark grin in response before loading his plate full with scrambled eggs.

"Did you sleep well, Carolina" Mr. Weasley asked as he handed the Daily Prophet over to Remus who must have come back early that morning.

"Quite well, thank you," Carolina responded, helping herself to a piece of toast.

"By the way Lina, there's a present for you under the tree," Fred said offhandedly.

Carolina frowned. "Oh, Fred, I'm sorry. I didn't think to bring yours with me since I thought we'd be going home last night. It's in your room."

"No bother," Fred responded cheerfully, though Carolina didn't expect him to be at all put off. It wasn't in his nature.

"I think I'll wait to open it so we can do them together."

"Good morning, Ron! Harry!" Mrs. Weasley called as the sixth years entered the room, Ron with a gigantic yawn.

They were also wearing one of the hand knit sweaters. In fact, as she looked around at the Weasley clan, it seemed they all had new sweaters on, probably hand knit by Molly, as she was the only family member not wearing one. Instead, she was wearing a midnight blue witch's hat that glittered like the night sky.

"That's a lovely hat, Mrs. Weasley," Carolina supplied, hoping that Fred's mother's good mood might allow Carolina to slip into her good graces.

"Isn't it just? Fred and George gave them to me," she responded, motioning to the hat and a rather fancy golden necklace. "Aren't they beautiful?"

There were various noises of agreement from those seated around the table before George added, "Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're washing our own socks," said George. "Parsnips, Remus?" he added, passing a ceramic bowl down the table.

"Harry, you've got a maggot in your hair," Ginny said, reaching across the table to pull something from Harry's locks.

Carolina grimaced. "How did that get-"

"'Ow 'Orrible," Fleur said, cutting her off.

"Yes, isn't it?" said Ron. "Gravy, Fleur?" he added far too eagerly, and in an attempt to pass along the bowl, spilled it all along the table.

Bill quickly righted the situation with a swish of his wand, winning him a kiss on the cheek from Fleur.

"You are as bad as zat Tonks," she said to Ron. "She is always knocking into-"

"I invited dear Tonks to come along today," Mrs. Weasley said, steering the conversation towards the metamorphagus order member.

The conversation continued on mildly, though Carolina quickly lost interest, her eye caught by an op-ed on the back of the Daily Prophet. It was by none other than Carolina's least favorite person in the world… Dolores Umbridge.

"Could you pass the paper, Fred?" she asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt the conversations going on around her.

"Sure." He passed it to her easily and her eyes immediately started taking in the words.

"Despicable…" Carolina muttered. It seemed Umbridge was trying to boost public enthusiasm for a muggleborn registration program at the Ministry.

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley's voice cut through Carolina's concentration. "Arthur, it's Percy!"

Carolina's head snapped up. Mrs. Weasley was staring out the window into the garden. Carolina quickly jumped from her seat to peer out as well, though her eyes found the figure behind Percy far more alarming.

"Fred, I need to go," she said frantically, scampering into the living room.

"What is it?" he asked, abruptly standing up as well, but Mrs. Weasley answered him before Carolina could.

"Arthur, he's with the Minister!"

A look of understanding dawned on Fred's face.

"Floo powder, Fred, quickly!" Carolina nearly yelled in a panic. She needed to get out of here before Scrimgeour arrived. She couldn't be seen to have a connection to the Weasleys by any Ministry employee. She doubted whether Scrimgeour would think twice on the matter, but it was all too easy for word to get back to unfriendly ears. No, being seen in connection to a family of obvious Dumbledore supporters, obvious members of the Order of the Phoenix, that could jeopardize her position as a spy in the minister.

"Here, right here," Fred said, handing her a small pouch that had been hanging beside the fireplace in the sitting room.

"I'll come over tonight," Carolina said quickly as she grabbed a handful of floo powder.

Fred nodded resolutely as they heard the door creak open in the other room.

"Diagon Alley!" Carolina called as clearly as she could without raising her voice loud enough to alert the newcomers to her presence, before being engulfed in a burst of green flame.

The last thing she heard before she felt herself get sucked away was a rather stiff "Merry Christmas, Mother."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-three**

* * *

Carolina pulled her coat tighter around her in a futile bid for protection against the howling London winds.

This wasn't good, she thought to herself. She was running late. She should've forgone her usual mode of transport and flooed or apparated. She shouldn't have left Fred's so late. But his bed had been so comfortable and his arms so warm…

The walk from the tube to the underground toilets in Whitehall was only a few blocks, but the wind was howling so hard that it was nearly impossible to push forward.

A sudden gust of wind and her scarf soured off her neck. She paused, looking around frantically as it rose higher and higher on the breeze.

There were too many muggles around to summon it back to her. Bollocks, she thought; it was her favorite scarf. Her Slytherin one, that she'd worn for years.

By the time she had flushed herself down into the main atrium, Carolina was shivering almost violently. March was her least favorite month in London, she had decided. At Hogwarts, everything started to bloom in March, and the hearths were always burning but in London… everything was gray and there were constant and unsurprising bouts of bad weather, like today.

She looked down at her watch and sped up her pace. She had one minute to get to Pius's office.

She hastily squeezed herself onto a lift, pushing aside an elderly wizard in her haste who gave her a mighty scowl.

The lift felt hot and claustrophobic. It was claustrophobic, nearly packed full however, Carolina assumed that the heat was probably just radiating from her. She had been running for the past five minutes in a heavy woolen coat.

Finally in front of her boss's office, she wrapped smartly. This was good. Only a minute thirty seconds late.

"Come in," Pius's silky voice issued forth.

Carolina opened the door and stepped in.

"You're late." Carolina's eyes darted to the woman sitting across from Pius and felt her insides deflate. Why did Umbridge always have to be there?

"Bad weather," Carolina responded awkwardly as her eyes turned to the man next to Umbridge. He wasn't facing her, but had a unique, blond ponytail.

"Are you a witch or not, Ms. Flint?" was Umbridge's snappy retort as she pursed her wide lips.

Carolina, unable to think of anything to say that would keep her in the good graces of her boss, opted to move on to the subject at hand instead of responding to Umbridge. The horrible woman was obviously only bating her, anyways; offering opportunities for Carolina to slip up and embarrass herself in front of her boss, and Carolina would do no such thing. She couldn't risk getting fire. The Order needed her.

"I have new budget report," she said, pulling the thick packet out of her bag and stepping forward. "I've marked all of the expenditures that can be cut. I think it should be able to get approved."

"Flint, did you say?" the man with the ponytail said, turning towards her.

"Thank you, Carolina," Pius said, taking the packet from her outstretched hands.

"Any relation to Bellonia Flint?" The man had a square face, a strong jaw, and a rather squashed nose.

"She's my mother," Carolina said stiffly. This man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He seemed to know her however.

"And so Arris must be your father. Forgive me, I've only met your brother. I didn't know there was another Flint."

Carolina frowned for a second, before adjusting her expression.

"Not many do," she said cheerfully, hoping that her annoyance wouldn't be present on her face.

"I hope your parents are well?"

"They are," Carolina responded, though in truth she had no idea how her parents were doing. "I can tell them you asked after them, if you'd like, though I don't know your name Mr…"

"Yaxley," the man finished. "Corban Yaxley." The name didn't ring any bells, but the man continued on. "I went to school with your mother. Same year, both in Slytherin. And we're distantly related on my father's side. A third or fourth cousin, I believe."

"Small world," Carolina replied, trying to sound as pleasant as she could. So she was related to this man? But what was he doing here?

"Indeed," Umbridge's voice cut through the room.

"Corban will be stepping into my old position, Carolina," Pius said, clasping his hands in front of him. "Came to us recommended by Mr. Robards."

That spiked Carolina's interest. She remembered Amelia whispering to her that Gawain Robards, the Head of the Auror department, was compromised. Nonetheless, Carolina smiled tightly at Mr. Yaxley, who turned back around to face her boss.

"I assume you added an addendum to the budget in the case of our hiring a deputy director so that the figures could be correct?"

"I did, sir."

"Very good. I'd like for you to show Corban to his office and to go over this budget with him."

He handed the report back to Carolina, who took it gingerly. That had been a quick meeting… And why was Umbridge here?

"If you'll come this way, Mr. Yaxley…"

Yaxley stood up abruptly. He wasn't as tall as Carolina had thought he might me.

"Dolores, always a pleasure. Pius," he reached over to shake Carolina's boss's hand, "I look forward to working with you."

Pius, a man of few words as Carolina had learned over the course of the last half year, merely nodded.

Merlin, if he finds Umbridge "a pleasure" then he must not be completely there, Carolina thought to herself as she led him down the hallway to his office.

As she shut the door behind her, she could just hear Umbridge say, "now, Pius, I'd like to talk about my committee…"

* * *

"Ah, Ms. Flint, do come in." Dumbledore's voice was as calm and collected as she had ever heard it as she walked into the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, which she had been surprised to find out was the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. She had been even more surprised to find out that it had been the former home of Sirius Black, mass murderer. And she had been positively astounded to find out many months back that the aforementioned mass murderer was, in fact, innocent. She still remembered Professor Dumbledore's account of his story, his wrongful imprisonment, which had only compounded her determination for judicial reform at the Ministry of Magic, not that she had any power to make that happen...

"I'm sorry I'm a bit late, sir," Carolina said. Today was not her day for timeliness. Pius had kept her late, reviewing the case against a magic carpet smuggler.

"Not to worry, but as you are here now, we may begin. Remus, do you have any updates on the movements of the northern colony?"

As Professor Lupin—Remus, Carolina corrected herself in her head-began to speak about the persuasiveness of Fenrir Greyback, Carolina slid in next to Fred at the end of the table. At the head, next to her was Mad Eye Moody who was looking more sour than normal, and across from her sat Tonks who kept shooting furtive glances at the werewolf who now held the attention of the room.

One person however, was not fixated on Remus Lupin.

"What kept you?" Fred whispered into Carolina's ear, his hot breath tickling her neck.

"Thicknesse," Carolina whispered back. "Sorry I missed dinner."

"You could have sent an owl," Fred said, winking and Carolina knew he wasn't too ticked off.

"You know I can't send owls from work to you," Carolina responded, before squeezing his hand in an attempt to get him to shut up. She didn't want to appear disrespectful or unprofessional in the eyes of the order.

As she looked up, she felt a heavy stare fall upon her and met her former head of house's eyes. He quickly looked away but Carolina couldn't help but feel as if he had been watching her interaction with Fred and… had that been a judgemental glint in his dark eyes?

"And Nymphadora, Kingsley, Carolina? Do we have any news from the Ministry?"

"Robards is moving very slowly. Hasn't taken on any new aurors in the training program, either. Something about budget cuts," Tonks said.

"Scrimgeour has me tailing the British Prime Minister, so I haven't been in the office," Kingsley added.

"Carolina?" Dumbledore's unwavering blue gaze fell on her.

"We had a new hire," Carolina said after a pause. "Deputy director, as recommended by Mr. Robards… erm, Corban Yaxley."

A sudden wave of murmurs erupted about the room, only to be hushed as Albus Dumbledore turned to Professor Snape.

"Severus?" he asked.

Snape nodded. "A death eater," he confirmed.

Carolina gulped and she could feel Fred stiffen from beside her.

She had shaken hands with a death eater today. She had sat next to him and explained the complicated budgeting details of their department. He had asked her to stop by his office tomorrow, saying something along the lines of "recognizing her talents…"

"He knows my parents, I think," Carolina added hesitantly. "And he wants me to have tea with him in his office tomorrow."

At this statement, she could almost feel the anger radiating from Fred.

"Perfect," said a gruff voice to her left. "Make contact. Establish trust. Report back."

"Alastor, we must, once again ask Ms. Flint if she is indeed comfortable continuing her espionage…"

Carolina felt the familiar pressure as all of the eyes in the room turned towards her.

"I am, sir." Talking to Yaxley hadn't felt too perilous today. For all he knew, she was the pureblood daughter of his Hogwarts classmate from a well-to-do family. She was just another Slytherin.

"Very well. By no means should you engage with Mr. Yaxley outside of the Ministry, Carolina," Dumbledore said warily.

"Yes, sir. But there's something else," Carolina said quickly, thinking back to the meeting she had walked into that morning. "I think Umbridge is up to something. She's forming a new committee… and she took it to Thicknesse, instead of to the Minister."

"Scrimgeour is very busy these days," Kingsley said, in an attempt to abate Carolina's worries. "Perhaps she merely couldn't get a meeting."

"She's the Senior Undersecretary," Carolina replied haughtily. "Of course she could get a meeting. But I think she is intentionally hiding it from Scrimgeour. And Yaxley knows about it."

"Very well, if you could continue to be vigilant of this… committee, Carolina," Dumbledore responded.

Carolina nodded, before leaning back, having said her piece.

* * *

"You can't seriously still want to work there!" Fred said angrily in a hushed whisper.

"Fred, it's my job," Carolina groaned. Fred had cornered her in the hallway after the meeting while many of the other Order members had opted to help Mrs. Weasley cook.

"And you're working for a death eater!" His voice was raising in caliber.

"I'm working for the Ministry," Carolina corrected, before glancing nervously at the curtain-covered portrait on the wall. It had erupted in hellish screams only once during a particularly heated meeting and Carolina didn't want to cause a repeat of the occurrence.

"Well, I think you should quit. It's not worth risking your life over."

"If there was anything worth risking my life over, it would be this," Carolina argued. She didn't like that he was telling her what to do.

As if not having heard her, Fred bouldered on. "I mean, you could work at the shop with George 'n' me. You helped us with the whizzbangs and I reckon you'd be good enough to help with some other inventions-"

"You can't be serious."

"And we can afford another employee now. Business is doing quite well, so you don't have to work at the Ministry if you don't want to—"

"Fred, I rather like my job and I'm bloody good at it!" Carolina countered, her voice rising so that he would hopefully hear her. "I don't want to work at the shop with you."

"Well, you sure as hell can't continue working for a death eater!"

"I can sure as hell do as I please!"

"I'm not going to let you!" he yelled, prompting the curtains of the portrait to burst open and the painted woman to emit banshee-like wails of "Bloodtraitors! Bloodtraitors infiltrating the most noble house of Black!"

"You're being a bastard, Fred," Carolina, glared at him, before strutting angrily to the front door and wrenching it open, leaving him to deal with the yowling painting.

Carolina stepped outside, only to be confronted with a rather bewildering sight. Albus Dumbledore, his burnt, deadened hand clasped within his normal one behind his back, was staring up at the cloudless night sky.

The winds had died down from earlier and the air felt completely still.

Carolina cringed as the door swung shut behind her, breaking Dumbledore from whatever reverie he was enjoying.

He turned towards her. "Ah, Ms. Flint," he said as if he had been expecting her to come rushing out of Grimmauld Place. But that couldn't have been. He couldn't have known Fred and her would get into a domestic in the hallway after the Order meeting. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"

"Um, yes, sir," Carolina responded.

"Mars is particularly bright tonight," the elderly headmaster said absently, raising his good hand to point in a vague direction above them.

Carolina squinted. None of the stars looked particularly bright, let alone bright enough to be a planet, but Astronomy had never been her strong suit. In fact, she had dropped it after her O.W.L. year.

Still, she thought back, attempting to pull something from her mind that Professor Sinistra had endeavored to teach her years ago.

"A good night for… er, potion brewing?" Carolina offered. That didn't sound correct at all…

"Perhaps," Dumbledore agreed, "although I was never any good at Astronomy… They are nice to look at though, aren't they?"

"Er, yeah," Carolina added as she stepped down the few remaining steps to stand next to him and peer up at the night sky. This was rather bizarre, she decided. In fact, she didn't know if she had ever been alone with the headmaster ever before… and now she was stargazing with him? Bizarre, indeed.

"Yes, there certainly are things in our world more magical than any spellwork you or I know," Dumbledore said with a vague exhalation, before pulling the pocket watch out of his cloak. "Oh it really is late; I must be off. Good evening, Carolina," he finished with a slight nod and a twinkle in his eye.

"Goodbye—" Carolina started to say, but he had already disapparated. "Professor," she finished lamely to the empty air.

Suddenly, she felt winded. She took a step backwards and sat down on the stoop in front of Grimmauld Place, lowering her head into her hands.

Today had been a long day. She hadn't wanted to fight with Fred at all, but it had been exceptionally presumptuous of him to think she would leave her job just when things got tough. For a moment, she wondered if she had done the right thing… taking him back. She didn't need someone so overprotective, so… controlling.

But he wasn't really controlling was he…? This had been practically their only fight since they had gotten back together. No, normally he was so good to her. He must feel scared, she decided. It was all rather scary, wasn't it? Death eaters and dark marks and the impending war? He had the right to be an overprotective boyfriend every once in a while, she supposed. Though, she had the right not to listen to him, as well…

Clumsily, Carolina stood up and turned around. She covered the few steps between her and the door, before raising her hand to knock, but before she could, it was swung open.

"Lina," Fred said, both surprise and remorse showing on his face. "You're right; I am a bastard."

Carolina quirked a smile, stepping closer to him in the doorway, before wrapping her arms around him. Fred, for his part, had the dignity to look rather hesitant. "A bastard that I love, unfortunately," she grinned, sparking the tiniest mirror of her expression in his face, before she closed the gap between them.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Aaaaaand we've met Yaxley! I'm glad so many of you are enjoying the story. I've received a few reviews from people after reading all 42 chapters in one go which makes me so happy because I personally LOVE binging fan fiction. I also got a review a while back about Carolina potentially meeting Sirius Black which I would have really liked to have written (since I feel like she would have been quite interested in his experience in Azkaban etc.) but didn't make sense with the timing of this plot. Anyways... thanks for the reviews! I love reading them!_ _Y'all are the greatest._


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter Forty-four**

* * *

"Ah, Carolina, were you leaving? I was hoping you could quickly edit MacNair's proposed creature brief."

Carolina paused from pulling on her sweater.

"I was just about to," she said, frowning slightly at Corban Yaxley.

"Did you have somewhere to be?" The blond man queried delicately. There was a slight sense of irony in his voice; he knew he could ask Carolina to stay and work and she would have to if she wanted to keep her job.

"Oh, er…yes," Carolina started. In fact, she had somewhere of the utmost importance to be, but she couldn't exactly parade around the fact that she wanted to head to the Burrow before the rest of the Order members left for Harry Potter's.

"And that is…?" Yaxley raised his eyebrows.

Carolina gulped, hoping that her nervousness wouldn't show on her face. She had to think quickly. She couldn't just lie and and tell him that she had dinner with her parents; he knew her parents and would probably just tell her that he'd write them and ask if she could stay late.

"I… have a date," she mumbled. Oh, that was really a pathetic excuse for an excuse, she thought to herself. But Yaxley had just sprung in on her…

"Really?" Yaxley took a step forward and leaned against Carolina's doorway, blocking her only way out of the office. "On a Monday?"

Bollocks, Carolina thought. Who went on dates on Mondays?"

"Yeah, he's erm, got a busy schedule."

"A nice pureblood fellow I take it?"

Carolina nodded, before looking down at her watch for good effect, hoping that Yaxley would not ask her to stay later than she already had.

"Well, who am I to deny you a bit of fun…" Yaxley sighed. "You certainly deserve it, holding together the department as you do…"

That much was true, at least. Ever since his hire, Yaxley had been firing folks left and right, replacing them with rather dodgy newcomers. Carolina had learned quite early on the pattern of his firings. The only workers left in her department now were all purebloods.

To make matters worse, the new hires were positively boorish. No one knew what was going on, let alone how to write a cohesive bit of legislature. One of them was actually an exonerated Azkaban escapee… Selwyn. Carolina assumed that all of the new hires were either Death Eaters, or You-Know-Who sympathizers at the very least… though she couldn't say for certain.

"Would it be alright if I, er, took the work home and did it after my, er, date?" Carolina asked meekly. She couldn't be too careful. Her position had been precarious enough before Dumbledore's death and now… Every day at the Ministry felt like she was tiptoeing along the edge of knife.

"No, no, you go have your evening, Ms. Flint," Yaxley said, standing up straight. "This will be here tomorrow morning." He stepped forward into her office, plopping the stack of papers onto her desk.

"Thank you, sir," Carolina managed out a brief smile, though her insides felt tight with anxiety, as she finished putting on her sweater.

She followed Yaxley out of her small office and into the hallway.

"Have a good evening," she nodded politely, heading towards the lift.

"You as well… Oh, and Ms. Flint? Keep up the good work. Pius has been very pleased with your performance."

Carolina nodded again as a set of chills rolled up her spine. She stepped into the open lift. In fact, she hadn't seen her boss for longer than a couple minutes in weeks. After his hiring of Yaxley, he had mostly stayed holed up in his office, allowing his new deputy to carry out the majority of leadership for their department.

The longest time she had spent with him, she realized as the lift hurdled towards the atrium, had been when he had promoted her, no less than a week after Yaxley's arrival.

She was now the Administrator of Wizengamot Affairs. What was even stranger was that he hadn't taken on a new assistant. It was almost as if… Carolina paused. Was she being paranoid?

She stepped out of the lift and walked towards row of ornate fireplaces. No, she wasn't being paranoid. She couldn't be too cautious… There had been massive breakout from Azkaban, Death Eaters had been infiltrating the Ministry, Gawain Robards had been put under the imperius curse, a break-in at Hogwarts and… Dumbledore's murder. She allowed herself to finish her thought from earlier:

It was almost as if upon Yaxley's arrival, Pius suddenly didn't want anything to do with her. Or, perhaps didn't want anyone privy to his schedule? Or perhaps… though she didn't have enough conclusive evidence to back this up, having only interacted with him briefly over the last month or so… perhaps he too had been placed under the imperius curse.

She took a handful of floo powder, before looking around discreetly. Luckily, she had stayed just late enough that the few people left in the atrium were rather far away, the normal hustle and bustle of rush hour having died down a couple hours earlier.

"The Burrow," she said quietly but forcefully, throwing the powder to the ground at her feet and immediately feeling the cool, green flames lick her calves, whisking her away.

"Is that you, Carolina?" Molly Weasley's voice rang out from the kitchen, though she didn't come to the living room to welcome her guest.

"Yeah, hi Mrs. Weasley. Hi Ginny," Carolina responded, stepping into the kitchen.

"Wotcher, Carolina." Ginny looked miserable; her knees were clung tightly to her chest as she perched on the bench by the long dining table.

Mrs. Weasley for her part didn't look too much better. A dark crease had formed on her forehead and her shoulders were tense as she anxiously scrubbed the dinner dishes. She wasn't using magic, Carolina noted. Probably to keep herself occupied. They had a long wait ahead of them.

"There's a plate for you on the counter and pumpkin juice in the icebox," Mrs. Weasley added.

"Thank you." Carolina picked up the plate, bringing it to the table.

"Ginny, get her a glass of juice," came Molly's voice from over the rush of sink water.

"Right." Ginny didn't look entirely happy at being told what to do.

"Thank you," Carolina repeated as the youngest Weasley handed her a cup of pumpkin juice. She took a sip, before tucking into the prepared plate for her.

Surprisingly, it was still warm and unsurprisingly, it was absolutely mouthwatering. Mrs. Weasley must have placed a heating spell on it.

"That's delicious," Carolina commented though she only received a nod and slight sound of recognition from Mrs. Weasley.

"I take it I just missed them?" Carolina asked, turning to Ginny who was back in the same position as she had been before, staring intently out the kitchen window at the dark garden.

"They left a bit early. Half an hour ago."

"Ah."

So, assuming no one had splinched themselves on the journey over and that Hagrid, Mad-Eye, Mundungus, Remus, Kingsley, Tonks and the thestrals had all made it safely… they would probably be leaving around now… Then they'd be flying for a little over an hour and assuming everything went as planned… would portkey back here by… she looked towards the clock. Well, that's rather useless, she thought to herself. All of the hands of the clock, each adorned with the name and face of a Weasley family member were pointing towards an engraving that read "mortal peril."

"The first portkey back is due at 10:30," Ginny said, as if reading Carolina's mind, before adding, "It's been stuck like that since June."

Carolina didn't need to ask what had happened in June to cause the clock to become stuck on "mortal peril." She felt as if a rock had dropped into her stomach at the thought of Dumbledore's murder. Perhaps what hurt her most, what confused her most was the fact that it had been carried out by her favorite professor. The professor she had trusted the most…

She shook her head, not wanting to think of it anymore and stared back down at her plate. Suddenly her appetite, even for Mrs. Weasley's amazing steak and kidney pie, had disappeared.

She forced herself to finish the dinner anyways, in part because she didn't want Fred's mother to think her ungrateful or rude and in part because… well, eating was better than just sitting and worrying, like Ginny was doing, wasn't it?

It was perhaps the slowest meal of her life. At some point, Mrs. Weasley had made tea and joined them at the table.

"Why didn't you go?" Ginny asked suddenly, cracking right through the silence.

"Don't be silly, dear. Carolina couldn't go," Mrs. Weasley added.

Ginny didn't look very happy with this excuse, so Carolina thought she should clarify. "Originally, when Mundungus came up with the idea, I was supposed to go instead of him but… Kingsley and Moody thought it was too risky… if the polyjuice wore off…"

"Carolina's rather high profile at the Ministry now and easily recognizable by the Death Eaters that work there," Mrs. Weasley finished.

"So Mundungus took my place."

"Bet he wasn't too happy about that, was he?" Ginny added sourly as an afterthought.

"No, I don't think he was," Carolina said.

"I would have gone. I'm just as-"

"You would _not_ have gone!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted harshly, finally directing her gaze away from the window and towards her daughter. "Not while you're still living under my roof!"

Ginny rolled her eyes, but thought better of responding. A wise move, in Carolina's opinion. Mrs. Weasley looked positively perturbed.

10:30 came and passed. Ginny hadn't moved from her position on the bench, but Mrs. Weasley was now up and pacing about the kitchen.

"Ron and Tonks were due back first," Ginny whispered. "Fred and Dad at 10:40."

Carolina looked down at her watch. It read 10:39. She hastily stood up.

"I think I'll wait outside."

She quickly stood up from the stool and, bypassing the pacing Mrs. Weasley, pushed through the kitchen door and out into the backyard garden.

The night air was rather muggy, though still. Not a breath of wind whispered through the trees.

Carolina stood, looking up at the night sky. Any moment now, Fred would come hurtling down, portkey in hand. Any moment now…

She looked down at her watch. 10:41. Oh no. Oh, Merlin… She felt her stomach twist itself into knots, felt as if she was going to eject the lovely plate Mrs. Weasley had saved for her.

Suddenly, something did come flying down from above. It landed with a soft bounce and Carolina cautiously walked over. It was just an old sneaker.

She quickly turned around and nearly ran back into the kitchen.

"They're not back!" She said hurriedly, though to no great effect. It was obvious that the two other women were thinking the same thing.

"They could have just missed their portkey," Mrs. Weasley said. The normal warmth that rang through her voice was gone. She sounded hollow.

Carolina quickly looked away, suddenly self-conscious. It was almost as if she had forgotten that Fred was their family… their brother and son… And Arthur their father and husband. She was merely Fred's girlfriend… She couldn't begin to imagine how Ginny and Mrs. Weasley might be feeling…

"Someone's there!"

There was a flurry of motion and benches scraping as the three women bolted up and ran out into the yard.

Carolina looked desperately at the two shadows but was instantaneously disappointed. One was far too big to be a normal human. It had to be Hagrid. She stopped short as the other two women continued hurrying out into the dark yard.

Carolina watched as Ginny flung her arms around Harry. All she wanted was to do the same to Fred but he wasn't back yet…

She stood stock still as Mrs. Weasley, fretting over the half-giant's injuries, accompanied Hagrid past Carolina and back into the Burrow.

"Isn't anyone else back?" Harry asked, panting slightly.

Ginny merely shook her head, adding a sympathetic look towards Carolina.

She crossed her arms, hugging them into her chest as a shiver passed through her body, despite the relative warmth of the evening.

Where were they? What had gone wrong?

"The Death Eaters were waiting for us," Harry said, answering Carolina's unasked questions. "We were surrounded the moment we took off… They knew it was tonight—I don't know what happened to anyone else, four of them chased us, it was all we could do to get away, and the Voldemort caught up with us—"

Carolina looked away. She didn't want to hear him. They had been surrounded. Fred could be… She didn't want to think it. Instead, she focused on more practical matters. If the Death Eaters had somehow known that they were moving Harry tonight… Someone must have told them. Someone had betrayed the order.

Lost in her thoughts, Carolina hadn't noticed Mrs. Weasley's return to the yard or the conversation Harry and Ginny had carried on.

"...that one," Ginny said, pointing to the sneaker, "should have been Dad and Fred's, they were supposed to be second."

Carolina felt her throat tighten.

"You and Hagrid were third and—what time is it, Carolina?"

Carolina looked down numbly at her watch. "10:54"

"If they made it, George and Lupin out to be back in about a minute," Ginny finished.

Harry nodded in understanding, though he didn't say anything. Carolina couldn't blame him. She too could think of nothing to say.

"Mum!" Ginny called suddenly, her hand raised and her fingers pointing into the darkness.

A blue light appeared in the sky and then two figures, spinning and falling towards the ground. They landed rather unceremoniously and Carolina knew instantly that something was wrong. One of the bodies was slouched over against the other and was dripping something…

Harry ran forward, seizing the legs of the fallen one, helping Remus to carry him towards the house.

"Oh, god," Carolina whimpered as they got closer. George looked as if he had passed out and his face was covered in blood.

As Remus and Harry placed him carefully onto the couch, Carolina stared at his blood-covered face, recalling the incident three years earlier when she had accidentally given his twin a bloody nose. She had healed Fred easily but this… Carolina didn't even know where to begin. She felt useless; her normal, go-to healing spells would be futile here. It looked like his entire ear had been blasted off.

She tore her eyes away from George's limp form at a sudden bout of movement from across the room.

Remus had grabbed Harry but the arm and thrown him down at the table, pointing his wand in his face.

"What creature sat in the corner the first time that Harry Potter visited my office at Hogwarts?" he yelled. "Answer me!"

"A… A grindylow in a tank, wasn't it?" Harry responded, his voice trembling.

Professor Lupin lowered his wand, letting out a shaky breath, before his eyes caught Carolina's as she stood, watchful from the corner.

No sooner, and his wand was up again, and this time, it was pointed at her.

"Where did I advise you to go when you came to me with questions about Sirius Black?" he said steadily.

"The legal section," Carolina choked out, "of the library."

Lupin slowly lowered his wand, though his eyes stayed put on Carolina, and she had the sinking realization that, of the rest of the Order members, he probably suspected her most.

"Wha' was tha' about?" called Hagrid from the doorway, a flagon of what looked like whiskey in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Harry, Carolina, but I had to check," said Lupin tersely. "We've been betrayed. Voldemort knew that you were being moved tonight and the only people who could have told him were directly involved in the plan. You might have been an imposter."

His golden eyes lingered on hers. "Or… under the imperius curse," Carolina finished for him. She knew what he was thinking. She came in contact with Death Eaters every day at work.

"None of the Order would have told Voldemort we were moving tonight. He only caught up with me toward the end, he didn't know which on I was in the beginning. If he'd been in on the plan he'd have known from the start that I was the one with Hagrid," Harry said.

"Voldemort caught up with you? What happened? How did you escape?" Lupin asked sharply.

Carolina shuddered at the thought, before walking towards the kitchen window and staring longingly out at the garden once again, allowing Harry and Remus's voices to fade to the back of her mind.

Suddenly, a dreadful thought entered Carolina's mind. What if she had been put under the imperius curse? What if… she had told Yaxley about the Order's plan to move Harry and she simply couldn't remember it?

Carolina felt sick. She tried to replay the past week at work in her mind. Had she been alone with Yaxley? Yes. Were there gaps in her memory? Of course. Her days were so busy that she could hardly remember what she had eaten for lunch on Friday, let alone every time she had been in Yaxley's presence.

Oh, god. It had been her, she thought as her body shook and tears began to cloud her vision.

Suddenly, through her blurry eyes, she could just make out another light appearing in the sky.

Remus and Harry had apparently seen it too as they sprinted out through the backdoor, but Carolina couldn't bring herself to move. She felt paralyzed as she watched the two figures land gracefully on the lawn: Kingsley and Hermione.

Remus and Kingsley had their wands pointed at each other.

Carolina had only wanted to help; only wanted to make the world safer so that she and Fred could be together and yet… tonight had been her fault.

Fred and Arthur and Ron and Tonks were all missing. George's ear had been cursed off. It was all her fault.

She watched as the Hermione, Remus and Kingsley continued to talk outside, while Harry sullenly walked back through the kitchen to the living room, not even sparing her a glance.

She felt the first few tears begin to drip down her face. Why had he missed his portkey? Where was he?

Kingsley, Remus and Hermione all walked back into the kitchen and Carolina gulped.

"Prof-R-Remus…" she started, hiccuping. "H-how do I know that I didn't… How do I know that I… haven't been p-put under… the imperius curse?"

The three stopped walking, and a rather sympathetic look appeared on Hermione's face.

Remus seemed at a loss for words as Kingsley stepped forward.

"Carolina, you knew about the seven Potters," he said as he gently put his hand on Carolina's shoulder. A reassuring warmth spread through her skin at his touch. "Voldemort didn't know that there would be seven. We were betrayed by someone who knew the date only… not the intricacies of the plan."

Carolina nodded numbly. That was true. She had known about the seven. Originally, she had been meant to be one of the seven. If she had been put under the imperius curse, the Death Eaters would have known about the decoy Potters…

Kingsley straightened up and turned to Remus. "That being said, we can't be too careful. I think we should have Tonks check in on Carolina at the Ministry more often."

Remus nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud and sudden crack!

"Fred!" Carolina yelped, rushing towards him as both Remus and Kingsley drew their wands, pointing them fiercely at Arthur Weasley.

"I'll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you!" boomed Mr. Weasley, pushing past the small group in the kitchen and bursting forth into the living room.

"Lina," Fred moaned as he enveloped her in a hug that only lasted a few seconds. He quickly straightened up. "Where's George? I need to…"

"This way," Carolina tried to smile, grasping his hand in hers and pulling him into the living room after his father.

"How is he?" Arthur asked, before dropping to his knees at the side of the couch.

Mrs. Weasley had done a good job of cleaning George's wound, Carolina noted as she pulled Fred to stand with her behind the couch. The blood was gone and the flesh had sewn itself up nice and clean, although a dark hole was still present where his ear had been.

Carolina peaked a glance over at her boyfriend. His face was pale and his eyes wide and glassy, apparently at a loss for words.

George shifted on the couch and stirred, his eyes opening slowly.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley.

George slowly lifted one of his hands to grope around the side of his head.

"Saintlike," he murmured.

"What's wrong with him?" Fred croaked out, his voice breaking. Carolina squeezed his hand. She had never seen him look so terrified. "Is his mind affected?"

"Saintlike," George repeated, his voice slightly stronger now. "You see… I'm holy. _Holey,_ Fred, geddit?"

Mrs. Weasley broke down into a bout of sobbing, throwing herself onto Arthur's shoulders.

"Pathetic," Fred responded, his face regaining some of its natural brightness. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for _holey?"_

Carolina rolled her eyes. Typical of them to be joking and bickering right now.

"Ah, well," George grinned at his mother whose face was lined with tear stains. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum."

"Merlin…" Carolina said under her breath, though she assumed Fred had heard her as he gave her hand a squeeze.

A short pause ensued while George looked around.

"Hi, Harry… you are Harry, right?" he asked.

Harry confirmed as George continued. "Well, at least we got you back okay. Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled 'round my sickbed?"

"They're not back yet, George," Mrs. Weasley answered him as the pressure that the twins had alleviated returned to the room.

Harry and Ginny walked back out to the kitchen and out into the yard to join the others as they waited and Carolina was suddenly left alone with the twins and their parents.

Fred quietly left Carolina's side to kneel by his brother.

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley said, standing up abruptly. "Ron!" She and Mr. Weasley raced out from the living room. Carolina whirled around to peer out through the doorways. Indeed, it looked as if Tonk and Ron had just arrived. She breathed out a sigh of relief as she watched Remus and Tonks embrace. Now only four were missing…

"So how'd you lose it?" Fred asked, a mild grin shifting his lips upwards.

George raised his eyebrows. "Well, according to the Hogwarts rumor mill—though I don't normally put much in store by it—it was actually a bloke who asked your girlfriend to the Yule Ball sixth year," he said, turning to Carolina slightly.

"What?!" Carolina and Fred asked at the same time.

"And our least favorite professor," George added, shrugging.

"Snape cursed you?" Carolina asked, aghast.

"Snape asked you to the Yule Ball?" Fred asked at the same time, staring up at Carolina.

"No, of course not!" Carolina responded, before adding, "Oh, George! You are horrible! Why did you have to bring that-"

"You can't call me horrible," George interrupted, grinning. "I'm nearly on my deathbed because of your favorite professor."

"You can't be _nearly_ on your deathbed," Carolina spat. "You're either dying or you're not and you've only lost an ear! And he isn't my favorite professor!" she added for good measure.

"Only lost an ear!?"

"Mate, she has a point. Of all the appendages you could have lost…" Fred said.

"Bollocks…" George gulped at the thought.

"Yes. Exactly. You could have lost those," Carolina added perfunctorily.

"Lina!" Fred exclaimed as George snorted, propping himself up on the couch.

"I like what you've done to her," he said to Fred, gesturing to Carolina. "Her mind's in the right place."

Carolina rolled her eyes as the two brothers laughed but let a smile grace her face nonetheless… It felt good to smile, to listen to their laughter. It was much needed after the stress of tonight.

Just as Fred was making to say another joke, the rest of the order members walked back into the living room, this time with Bill and Fleur in tow.

Bill's hair was a mess and Fleur looked like she had been crying, her usual beauty offset by the tear tracks down her face and her red and puffy eyes.

"What's happened?" Fred asked, pausing his joke, the smile slipping from his lips.

Mr. Weasley was the first to respond as he collapsed into an armchair. "Mad-Eye's dead."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _The seventh book! Yikes! I can't believe this story is almost over. I'll be so sad when it's finished. Might just have to start writing something else._


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter Forty-five**

* * *

"Fred…"

"Mm?"

"It's nearly nine."

"Hm."

Carolina yawned, rolling over to face her boyfriend whose eyes were determinedly shut, despite the morning sunlight falling on his face. "You promised your mother that you'd be over at nine to degnome the garden before the wedding."

Fred groaned. "Why did I tell her that I'd do that?"

"Don't ask me, you're the one who did it," Carolina grinned, nuzzling closer to him as he put his arm around her.

"Maybe if I don't show up she'll think it was George who promised her."

"Fred."

Fred sighed, finally opening his eyes. "Fine. But if I go, you have to come with me," he said, leaning in an attempt to kiss Carolina.

Carolina pulled her head back. "Oh, there is no way in hell. Saturdays are the only time I get a lie in."

"But you've never degnomed anything before."

"And I don't plan on changing that."

"It can be very educational. You have loads to learn. Think about all the knowledge you have yet to accrue."

"Merlin, I'm not a bloody Ravenclaw."

"No, you're far too hot to be a Ravenclaw," Fred murmured, trying again to lean in for a kiss.

"Fred! You have to get up!" Carolina darted away, before adding, "and physical attractiveness has nothing to do with one's Hogwarts house..."

"C'mon, Lina, it'll be fun," Fred replied, ignoring her.

Carolina clicked her tongue before sighing. "Fine. But I'll only stay for an hour and then I'm back to my place. I'll see you in the afternoon anyways at the wedding."

"It's a deal!" Fred grinned, finally sitting up, before eyeing Carolina appreciatively as she stood, intent on dressing. "But you have to wear that, though."

Carolina rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to your mother's to degnome her garden in this," she said, motioning to the short dressing gown she had just pulled on.

"Worth a shot," Fred smiled, before finally standing. He stretched his arms up, his naked torso arching as he let out one last yawn.

Carolina quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt, before tying her hair up into a bun. She wasn't sure what one was supposed to wear to their first time degnoming something.

"I'd suggest galoshes," Fred said, eyeing the sandals she had just slipped onto her feet. "The gnomes have a nasty bite."

Carolina raised her eyebrows. "Remind me why I just agreed to this?" she responded, sliding out of her sandals. "Accio rain boots!"

"Because I'm the greatest boyfriend in all of Britain?" Fred offered, buttoning up his shirt.

Carolina frowned. "No… that can't be it," she said dramatically, grabbing her wand from the night table.

"Because you're the greatest girlfriend in all of Britain?"

"Spot on!" she grinned, before stepping over the pile of legal documents by her dresser towards him. "Floo or apparate?"

"Apparate," Fred responded, before extending his arm towards her.

Gingerly, Carolina took it, expecting to be whisked away with the crack of apparation but was surprised to instead find herself pulled closely to Fred's chest, their mouths pressed together.

"What? I didn't get a good morning kiss," Fred smiled in a rather smug fashion, pulling back.

Carolina rolled her eyes but let out a chuckle. "Can we just get this over with? Not everyone's ideal Saturday morning is a bit of gardening."

"Oh, it's quite a bit _more_ than a bit of gardening," Fred winked, before swishing his wand, and apparating them away.

An hour later, after a rather heavy breakfast of eggs benedicte and potatoes welcomingly imposed on her by Mrs. Weasley and introductions to Fleur's parents and little sister (who Carolina secretly thought Mrs. Weasley's attempt at a fancy French breakfast had been made to impress), Carolina finally found herself kneeling down in the long grass by the tomato patch, wand at the ready.

"Here comes another one!" hollered Fred, as he chased a garden gnome out from behind the chicken coop.

Carolina spun around as the gnome bounded towards her, looking frightfully over its shoulder at Fred.

"Petrificus totalus!" Carolina said, flicking her wand at the gnome who, as if it had just hit an invisible brick wall, froze completely, before falling backwards with a light plop into the grass.

Carolina gingerly picked it up by the scruff of its neck and dropped it into a basket where a pile of its comrades was slowly growing.

"Got one!" George yelled from the section of squash, holding up a squirming gnome. "Bugger!" He dropped it suddenly, before shoving his thumb into his mouth. "It bit me!"

"Petrificus totalus!" Carolina yelled again, freezing the dropped gnome who luckily, having landed on its head, had been wobbling around and hadn't run off too quickly.

"Nice one, Carolina!" George grinned, grabbing the gnome and tossing it to her. She easily caught it, dropping it into the basket.

"I think we've nearly got all of them," Fred said, walking over. "Their nest is just over by the gate and it's completely empty."

"Now what do we do with them, then?" Carolina asked, gesturing to the bulging basket, before wiping a strand of sweat from her brow. It was only just past ten and already, the heat from the sun was rather draining. She was glad that Fleur and Bill were getting married in a tent instead of out in the open.

"This part is the good part," Fred grinned, grabbing a petrified gnome from the group.

"The goal is to get them just over that hill there," George said pointing.

"Better leverage if you just give them a good kick," Fred continued, before drop-kicking the gnome. It let out a little squeal as it connected with Fred's foot, before flying far over the hill.

"I am not kicking a gnome!" Carolina said, feeling alarmed. The entire activity seemed rather barbaric.

"Oh, they turn out fine," George replied, accurately reading Carolina's concern. "Find their way back here eventually too."

Carolina grimaced. "I'll leave this part to you two."

"That's fine," Fred responded, as he and George picked up more gnomes. "I reckon we've made good time what with your help an' all. Normally when it's just the two of us we don't bother with petrifying them. Just launch 'em over as we find 'em."

"Eeeeee!" a particularly loud gnome let out as it went flying.

Carolina walked over to a wooden bench that overlooked Mrs. Weasley's wild vegetable beds and sat down.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, enjoying the feeling of the sun on her face and allowing the light squeals of the gnomes drift away from her consciousness. Degnoming was tiring work.

Some minutes late—Carolina had lost track of how long she'd been sitting there—she heard the crisp grass crunching beneath a pair of footsteps as someone approached her.

"Bit early for a nap, I reckon," Fred said as he sat down next to her.

"Well, somebody kept me up late last night and made me get up early," Carolina replied, opening her eyes and offering him a shy smile. "Are you done, then?

"Yep, and you didn't seem to have a problem with that last night," Fred countered, winking at her.

Carolina's smile expanded and she chuckled. "You caught me."

"Thank Merlin the wedding's today," Fred groaned, stretching his arms up before resting one along Carolina's shoulder. "Mum's going completely berserk. One more day and she would have imploded."

"Really?" Carolina laughed.

"She wanted to send me and George to my Aunt Muriel's for dance lessons the other day, knowing full well that Muriel hates George 'n' me."

"Dance lessons?" Carolina asked, both perplexed and amused.

"Right? She's barmy. I'm a great dancer."

"Are you?" Carolina laughed, thinking back to the Yule Ball when she had watched Fred's rather spastic arm movements on the dance floor. "I seem to recall differently."

"What do you mean you seem to recall? We've never danced together," Fred replied.

Carolina blushed, feeling as if she had potentially revealed too much.

Suddenly, Fred's face assumed a knowing look. "Oh ho!" he grinned. "You're talking about the Yule Ball. Bit jealous of Angie, are we?"

Carolina frowned. "No. It was just hard not to notice your dancing…"

Fred raised his eyebrows.

"...what with your arms looking more like windmills than actual human limbs," Carolina finished, smirking.

"Oy! I resent that comment!"

"Resent away," Carolina grinned, leaning her head back again and closing her eyes to the sun's warmth.

"I'll have you know I'm a great dancer. By this time tomorrow you'll be begging me for another dance."

"I guess I'll be the judge of that."

"Here, I'll show you!" Fred said suddenly, jumping up and extending his hand.

"What, right now?" Carolina asked, sitting up straight. "There's no music." The glint in his eye was slightly concerning…

"A great dancer can dance without music," Fred replied, waggling his fingers impatiently.

Carolina sighed, before placing her hand in his.

Fred gripped her hand, and pulled Carolina up from the bench and closer to him with a sudden jerk of his arm.

"Step one of how to be a great dancer. Always keep your partner on their toes," he grinned at Carolina's shocked inhale.

"Step two," he continued, placing his left hand on her lower back while raising his right, clasped with hers, upwards slightly. "Hand placement. Appropriate but…" he lowered his left hand slightly, "suggestive."

"Step three," he smiled sweetly down at Carolina who gulped nervously. "Spinning!" he suddenly yelled, pulling Carolina into pirouette after pirouette, spinning her mirthfully around and around.

"Fred!" Carolina called out, laughing as they spun. "Merlin! Fred!"

They tumbled sideways, landing in a heap of limbs in the tall grass.

Carolina shoulders shook as she laughed and her stomach hurt, though whether from dizziness or joy, she couldn't tell.

Fred rolled over, propping himself up next to her on his elbow, before tenderly pushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"See? I'm an exceptional dancer!"

Carolina had hardly caught her breath from laughing so hard.

"You're creative. I'll give you that much," she beamed up at him.

"Creative… exceptional… same word really…" Fred replied, inching his face closer to hers.

Carolina instinctively closed her eyes as his lips delicately connected with hers. She pulled her hands up from her sides and brushed her hands through Fred's hair. It was hot, probably from them being in the sun for so long and it felt good between her fingers

"Getting frisky in the garden now, are we?"

Fred groaned, dropping his forehead onto Carolina's momentarily, before sitting up.

"I know it's your wedding day, but could you just bugger off somewhere?" he responded.

Bill laughed.

"What's going on?" Charlie asked as he and George walked over.

"These two have let the romantic atmosphere get to them, I reckon," Bill said as George broke out laughing.

"We have not!" Carolina countered, sitting up as well, though suddenly feeling rather ridiculous. She realized she was still wearing an old t-shirt, shorts and rain boots. Bill and Charlie were already dressed in their suits.

"I know you're my brother and everything, but I'm seriously considering pranking your wedding," Fred said, causing his brothers to laugh even more.

"Listen, I just came over to tell you that mum wants us all in our suits," Bill responded, throwing his hands up in mock defense.

"What? It's hours before the ceremony!"

"That's what I told her," Charlie said, picking at the flowers pinned to his lapel. "But she's a bit far over the the cuckoo's nest today so I thought better than to argue."

Fred groaned, falling back into the grass. "At my wedding, everyone can wear whatever they want. You can even wear those galoshes, Lina."

"Oh, gee, thank you," Carolina responded sarcastically, standing up as the other three Weasley brothers cackled.

"Fred! George!" Mrs. Weasley's voice carried shrilly over to them.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Bill said, shrugging and turning on his heel.

"Come on, Fred," Carolina said, stretching out her hand to help him to his feet. "I should get going anyway. I was only supposed to be here until ten."

Fred looked as if he was going to protest but ultimately put his hand in hers.

"I'll see you at three, okay?" Carolina continued as Fred's brothers walked back through the garden.

Fred nodded, before adding slyly, "I could come with you."

"You're assuming that your presence while I clean my apartment and get dressed is worth risking your mother's wrath upon me when you show up again in jeans, which it most certainly is not."

"Fair enough," Fred grinned. "See you later."

"See you," Carolina said, standing up straighter to kiss him on the cheek, before pulling her wand from her pocket and disapparating with a pop.

Moments later, Carolina appeared in her rather messy bedroom. There were stacks of documents and books on the floor, some of which had been toppled over in her and Fred's haste to rid themselves of their clothing the night before.

She gingerly picked up her underwear from yesterday, before tossing it into her hamper. She needed a cup of tea if she was to clean the room, reorganize the work she had taken home and get ready for a wedding.

Stepping around the mess, Carolina plodded into the kitchen, but stopped short, staring at her window. A strange owl was waiting on the ledge.

This wasn't her parent's owl, nor was it the Weasley's, or anyone's from the office… In fact, she had never seen this owl before in her life.

She carefully opened the window, watching as the bird hopped in, sticking out it's leg.

As Carolina pulled the unmarked scroll from it's talons, the bird fluffed its wings, before taking off suddenly. So, whoever had written to her hadn't wanted their bird to wait around for a reply.

Hesitantly, she unrolled the scroll.

" _Carolina-_

 _You are fired henceforth from your employment at the Ministry Of Magic. Do not come to work on Monday._

 _P.T."_

Carolina felt her jaw involuntarily drop open. 'P.T.' could only be… Pius Thicknesse. And he was firing her? She stared at the letter nonplussed. She hadn't done anything that was worth being fired over. No one at the Ministry knew that she was involved with the Order of the Phoenix. They had no way of knowing… It was altogether strange…

Though, stranger still was that it wasn't written in Thicknesse's neat and tidy scroll that she knew so well. In fact, the lines were slanted and the letters disjointed, shaky even. It looked rather like it was written by a third grader, not a 47 year old man.

She carefully held the parchment up to the light of the window. In a few places, it appeared as if the quill had poked through, perhaps where the writer had pushed to hard, strained too much to write the letter…

Carolina frowned. Uncertain of what to do. Was this worth calling an Order meeting over? Had Dumbledore been alive, she would have sent a patronus to him but… She was about to see the majority of the remaining Order members in two hours anyway. Was this worth ruining Bill and Fleur's wedding over? She could only imagine Mrs. Weasley's wrath if Carolina called an Order meeting to discuss her being fired from her job and they had to postpone the wedding.

No, she had better keep this to herself until after the wedding. And Thicknesse had told her not to come to work on Monday, which was just preposterous. It was illegal for them to fire her without at least one week of warning or the equivalent payment… And she had her things at the Ministry. She'd have to clear out her desk and…

Suddenly, a thought slipped into her mind. This was just too bizarre to be real. The chicken-scratch handwriting, the non-ministry owl, the fact that it was a Saturday afternoon, that she had even been fired via post and not in person… No, this couldn't be real.

Then, the question remained: Why had he written her?

Carolina, forgetting her tea walked back to her room. She placed the parchment on her dresser.

Why had he written her?

She numbly started picking up the clothes strewn about her room.

Why would he want to stop her from coming to work?

She placed the pile of dirty laundry into her hamper.

The handwriting didn't look like his… But then, who had written it?

She sat herself down on her bed and lay backwards, ignoring the stacks of documents that needed sorting.

Who was trying to keep her away from the Ministry?

The afternoon sun poured in through her window, hitting her face as a passing cloud moved away. She closed her eyes.

Who was trying to keep her away from the Ministry?

Carolina awoke with a start, bolting upright. Bollocks, she thought as she stood up hastily, looking for her watch. She must have fallen asleep. Bollocking bollocks! It was just quarter to three. She was due back at the burrow in fifteen minutes.

"Accio dress!" she nearly shouted, swishing her wand with her right hand as she attempted to pull off her rainboots with her left one. "Bloody hell!" Every dress in her closet had flown off their hangers and rocketed towards her. "Shit!" She attempted to disentangle herself from the pile of dresses. So much for cleaning her room, she though miserably as the dresses fell to the floor.

She pulled the floral summer dress that she had picked out for the wedding from the tangled mass at her feet. Specificity, she reminded herself. She needed to be more specific next time she summoned any old household object to her.

She hastily pulled off her remaining boot, unbuttoned her denim shorts, and slid them off as well, allowing them to join the ever-growing pile of clothes on her floor. She'd deal with that later.

She yanked her t-shirt over her head, nearly choking herself in her haste, before pulling the dress on. It slid on smoothly over her torso but Carolina audibly groaned as the silky fabric got caught up over her knickers. They were her laundry-day pair. Old and rather ruffly. They just wouldn't do with this dress. She had meant to do laundry after picking up the clothes from around her room but bloody Fred had kept her up late and completely disrupted her entire day's plan with his bloody degnoming shenanigans.

She briefly wondered if she could transfigure them into something slightly more seamless but that would require looking up a spell and she really just didn't have the time right now.

Better go without, she thought to herself grimly, sliding the old things down her legs and throwing them to the ground as well.

What a day this was turning out to be…

15 minutes later, with a rather more successful "accio wooden-heeled sandals" and a slew of haphazardly applied makeup and hair-fixing spells, Carolina deemed herself mildly presentable. Silently thankful for all the times Delia and Abigail had played beauty salon on her and astounded that she had gleaned any information from their incessant chattering, Carolina finally grabbed her handbag. Her dress didn't have pockets in it, which was rather useless in her opinion, and she would need somewhere to store her wand. For the second time that day, Carolina disapparated to the Weasley's garden.

"Oh, er, hullo, Carolina," Ron Weasley said, blushing at her sudden appearance.

"Hi, Ron," Carolina responded, placing her wand into her bag.

"Ron, if you so much as attempt to show Carolina to her seat, I will vanish your dress robes!" Carolina heard Fred call from twenty yards away, walking an old man towards the tent.

"Fred didn't tell me you lot were ushering," Carolina commented, eying George, Ron, and a rather pudgy, red-haired boy whose dress robes seemed a little too tight. "Is that you, Harry?" she asked, knowing that he would have taken polyjuice potion.

The boy gave a slight grimace as he nodded. "Yeah, but call me Barney. I'm a Weasley cousin."

With another sudden crack, a few more people appeared. "Hullo, Luna," Ron said.

Carolina turned around, surprised to find the strange blonde Ravenclaw approaching with a man who could only be her father. He too had platinum colored hair cascading down his back-though he had significantly, balding as he was.

"Hello, Carolina," Luna said, greeting her with a lazy smile. "Didn't think you'd be here." Her eyes passed over Carolina, who frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Though, now that she thought on it… the last time she had seen Luna, Fred and Carolina _had_ been broken up…

"Hello, Ron. Hello, Harry," Luna continued, just a cacophony of cracks resounded around them. More guests. These ones though, were all remarkably beautiful, and Carolina had a suspicion that they were cousins of the bride.

Momentarily distracted, she lost track of Luna's explanation of how she had recognized Harry, despite the polyjuice potion, watching as George very, very amiably showed the gaggle of French women to their seats.

"Sorry 'bout that," Fred said, walking up to her and bypassing his twin, Ron with Luna's father and Harry with Luna on his way over. He leant over to give her a peck on the cheek. "You look lovely," he continued, eying her dress, "though I stand by what I said earlier. The galoshes would have help up just fine."

Carolina smiled. "You look nice, yourself," she said, wrapping her arms around him, before leaning in for a kiss.

"Frederick!" a crackly, whip-like voice called out.

"Motherfucker," Fred whispered, pulling back. "Hi, Aunt Muriel."

"Not doing a very good job ushering, are you?" the old woman quipped back, before turning to Carolina. "And who are you?"

"This is Carolina, my girlfriend," Fred responded, clasping his hand within Carolina's. And for good reason too. This woman was terrifying.

"And do you have a last name, girl?"

"Erm, Flint, ma'am."

"A Flint, eh? Well, I suppose that's mildly better than a foreigner, like the one your brother Bill's picked out," she scowled.

Carolina's eyebrows shot up. She wasn't sure whether to feel offended or amused…

"Ron," Fred breathed out with a sigh of relief as his younger brother approached them again. "Why don't you show Auntie Muriel to her seat?"

"Argh, can't you-" Ron stopped short, under the old woman's icy stare. "Right this way, Aunt Muriel."

Aunt Muriel tutted, but took Ron's arm anyway, allowing him to walk her down towards the tent.

"Wrote me out of her will, that one did," Fred said as he and Carolina followed slowly behind them.

"I hardly think that will be a detriment to your wealth," Carolina laughed, "what with the joke shop."

"Yeah, but still. She's just bitter that George 'n' I stuck a fish in her sock drawer when we were seven."

"Well, that's a good enough reason to be bitter if I've ever heard one-" Carolina started to say but Fred plowed on.

"Now, Uncle Bilius… He could take a joke. Absolute riot, he was! Used to get so plastered that he'd whip out his willy at Easter suppers, claiming that it grew flowers!"

Carolina couldn't help but laugh as they approached the folding chairs. "You're next to me," Fred motioned, sitting down with Carolina.

"Fred!" His mother hissed at him, from where she was standing, talking to Mrs. Delacour. "Don't make me tell you again, you're an usher!"

Fred rolled his eyes, but stood up nonetheless. "Right mum!" he said, before turning to Carolina. "Sorry about this, I'll be back in a bit," he finished, winking, before strutting back up the aisle.

Carolina watched him as he retreated out of the tent. His dragon-hide suit was a different one from the one he wore in the shop. Much fancier, and green to match her dress. He looked very handsome, in her opinion.

Soon enough, all the guests were seated and the ceremony was under way. As the bride and groom exchanged their vows, Carolina couldn't help but get watery eyed. She chanced a glance over at Fred. He too had a rather sappy expression on his face, and his eyes appeared slightly more glassy than normal.

She subtly reached her hand into his lap, entwining her fingers with his and giving them a squeeze.

Fred, as if somehow startled by her touch, looked down in surprise at their hands, before offering her a watery smile.

Beyond them, both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were nearly sobbing and Carolina could hear the distinct, trumpeting sound of Hagrid blowing his nose from the back of the tent.

Some two hours later, Carolina was feeling pleasantly tipsy, and rather stuffed with hors d'oeuvres. The duck confit on jam and crackers had been particularly sumptuous…

"You are Carolina, no?" an accented voice rang out from her right as someone plopped into the open chair next to her at her, Fred, George and Lee's table.

"Yeah," she said, mildly astounded that Viktor Krum, the great Bulgarian seeker had recognized her. She had only met him a handful of times, and that had been almost three years ago. In fact, it felt like a lifetime ago… dancing with Felix at the Yule Ball, finding hidden spots around the grounds in which to snog. She felt like an entirely different person.

"Viktor. Good to, er, see you again." At this, Carolina distinctly heard Fred's chatter stop and could feel his eyes turn towards her. "Are you well?" she finished.

"Yes," the seeker grunted. "Are you in touch with Felix?"

Carolina's cheeks blushed, but she shook her head, ignoring Fred's burning gaze to her side.

"No… we both promised to write each other and we never did… Are you in touch? How is he?"

"He is not missing a single one of my matches," Krum responded. "He is working now at the Danish Ministry for Wizarding Arts and Culture."

"They have that there?" Carolina asked, surprised. That was rather civilized… The British Ministry could certainly learn a thing or two… Perhaps she should indeed write to him and ask about his department.

Krum grunted in response, apparently at a lack for something to talk about with his mate's ex-girlfriend-or-something and Carolina watched as his eyes drifted over to Hermione at the table two over from theirs.

"Excuse me," he said, standing as Luna got up from their table, opening a vacant seat next to the muggleborn.

Fred, ever the opportunist, drowned his champagne flute in one single gulp and offered Carolina his hand. "You want to dance?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Carolina said slyly. Apparently the mention of Felix had inspired Fred. "I'm not sure I'm fast enough for your style of dancing," she grinned at him. "Got a bit tripped up over my feet this morning," she said, though she took his hand anyway and allowed him to pull her from her seat.

"Yes, dancing with professionals can sometimes be overwhelming to amateurs," Fred grinned back as he guided her onto the dance floor. "But don't worry, I'll go slow," he finished, pulling her body tightly to his.

Carolina smiled, resting her head on her chest as they gently swayed to the slow song.

"Mmm… you smell good," Fred said, inhaling as his hand casually crept lower and lower on Carolina's back.

"You see, I know you're lying because I haven't showered yet today," Carolina responded, pulling her head back from his chest to raise her eyebrows at him with a chuckle.

"No!" Fred defended as his hand dropped even lower. "You always smell great—Merlin's beard!" he suddenly exclaimed, rather startled, before lowering his voice again. "Are you not wearing any underwear?"

"Say that a bit louder, why don't you?" Carolina scowled as he held her even tighter to him

"Bloody hell, that's so hot…" he murmured into her ear. "You know, I don't think anyone would notice if we were to… say… nip over to the house for a—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his body freezing and his eyes hovering somewhere beyond Carolina's shoulder.

Carolina dropped her hand from his shoulder and turned in the direction he was now staring.

Her breath caught in her throat. There, in the middle of the dance floor, was a silvery, glowing lynx cat.

" _The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming,"_ Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice rang out through the tent as the guests stared wide-eyed at the patronus.

A stunned moment of silence, and then an ear-splitting scream and then the entire tent seemed to erupt into a chaotic discord all at once.

Chairs were being flipped over, champagne flutes shattered, and the guests were running out, disappearing into the field with startling pops.

"Fred!" Carolina called "My wand!" She raced through the swarming masses over to their table in search of her small handbag. "I need to go in!"

"There's no way in hell you're going to the Ministry right now!" Fred yelled over the din, finally catching up with her.

"Fred, I—" She pulled her wand form her handbag.

"NO!" Fred bellowed, grabbing her elbow and spinning her around. "Please, Lina," he choked out.

Carolina looked around frantically. If she was found here by Death Eaters or Ministry employees alike… she'd really lose her job, that is, if she hadn't lost it already.

"Lina," Fred pleaded, "take my hand."

Silently, Carolina placed her hand in his and they disapparated instantaneously just as the roof of the tent was blown off and Death Eaters began to descend on the crowd.

"Stay here," Fred said, dropping her hand as soon as they had appeared in his living room and raising his wand again.

"Fred, wait," Carolina responded quickly, grabbing onto him. She knew he wouldn't apparate back while they were still touching. "Please, don't go."

"Lina, they're my family!" Fred yelled. A vein was nearly popping out of his neck.

"No, I just—I don't want you to—what if you—what if something…" she stumbled over her words, unable to meet his eyes.

Fred's expression softened. "I'll be fine. Just… just don't leave the apartment, okay?"

Carolina nodded, dropping her hands. As soon as they left Fred's arm, he was gone and Carolina was alone.

She numbly sat down on the couch, pulling her knees into her chest.

She felt helpless and her stomach twinged with anxiety.

Suddenly, the memory of the letter she had received that afternoon bolted into the forefront of her mind. It all made sense… Assuming Thicknesse had written that… and assuming that he had been placed under the imperius curse as she had suspected and as had been practically confirmed by Kingsley's patronus… perhaps the letter had been his attempt to break out of the curse and… could it be possible? Warn her?

Pius was an exceptionally strong wizard… and she remembered how easily she had almost completely resisted the imperius curse when Professor Moody—or rather, the Death Eater imposter of Professor Moody—had performed it on her.

Granted, she had seen it coming, been waiting in line for it… But Pius should have suspected something after Amelia's death, right?

But that seemed to be the only logical answer. Thicknesse must have been placed under the imperius curse, fought hard enough against it to write her a letter… explaining the childish handwriting… and sent it, knowing full well that the ministry would be taken over by the end of the weekend.

But now… Carolina's mind swirled around. She had to show up Monday. If Yaxley and whoever else in charge of this coup suspected her of knowing… she'd be in more danger than she already was.

Carolina ran her hands through her hair, pulling on it. She felt like crying, but the tears wouldn't come. Why did this all have to be happening? And where was Fred? It felt like he had been gone for ages now, but her mind had been moving at such a strange speed, she couldn't say how long she'd been there for. She looked down at her watch. Had it been an hour already?

Suddenly, two simultaneously cracks resounded about the apartment and Fred and George appeared in front of her.

Carolina leapt to her feet. "What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

George plopped down, exhausted, in a chair, tugging at his bowtie. "No one's hurt."

"Mum's in a right state though," Fred said, as he started pacing. "They took dad in for questioning."

"And Harry? Ron and Hermione?"

"Don't know where they went, but they got out of there fine," Fred said.

"I need to lie down," George said, stretching, before massaging his side. "Got hit with a nasty stinging hex."

He staggered to his feet and slowly made his way out of the room.

"Are you alright?" Carolina asked quietly once they were alone, watching as Fred continued to dart around the small living room.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, Lina," he paused, and in three paces, was directly in front of her. "I've been thinking." He took her hands in his. "I think you should move in here."

"I—" Carolina started to say, but Fred interrupted her.

"I just… I need to know that you come home every day… that you're okay." He took a breath in. "And, I… tonight, I realized, well… I just… I want to be with you as much as I can," he finished haltingly.

Carolina didn't need him to say it. She'd been thinking the same thing. After all the worry and the fear that had coursed through her body tonight at the thought that he could be injured or killed by a Death Eater… she wanted to be with him as much as possible as well, though she secretly wondered whether their relationship would be progressing so quickly if they weren't at war…

"Yeah, okay," she agreed.

"Wait, really?" Fred asked, looking surprised. "I thought you'd be a lot harder to convince!"

Carolina smiled, though the movement felt foreign to her cheeks. "No, I think it's a good idea."

"Well, that's sorted," Fred responded, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

Carolina leaned into his chest, reciprocating the hug. If she kept still enough, she could hear his frantic heartbeat through his shirt.

"Let's go to bed," she whispered.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _The wedding! I loved how J.K. wrote this whole event. Especially Elphias Doge and Aunt Muriel's conversation with Harry... Great dialogue. Hope mine was up to snuff this chapter! I certainly enjoyed writing it all. And the degnoming bit. Anyway, as always... THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! You guys are the greatest readers and I love reading your reviews! :-)_


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter Forty-six**

* * *

Carolina fingered her wand inside her cloak pocket and took a deep breath in, hoping to calm her nerves. She had taken to wearing her cloak around the office, just so that should always have her wand accessible and in her hand. Her imminent meeting with Yaxley was no exception.

She couldn't be too weary… scores of her coworkers had been put under the imperius curse, she believed, and she didn't want to be one of them.

She smartly wrapped her her knuckles against the wooden door, hoping that this would be a brief meeting. Being in Yaxley's presence always gave her the heebie-jeebies.

"Come in, Carolina," a voice sounded from inside, and she hesitantly opened the door.

"You wanted me to stop by, sir?" Carolina asked. Yaxley's interdepartmental memo hadn't said why he had wanted to see her and it was making her nervous.

"Have a seat." He motioned to the stiff looking chair in front of his wide desk.

Carolina sat down gingerly, keeping her left hand still in her cloak pocket, gripping her wand tightly.

"Carolina, as I'm sure you've noticed, things have been rather hectic in our department lately…"

Well, Carolina thought sourly to herself, that was the understatement of the century. With Thicknesse having replaced Scrimgeour as minister over a month ago, and Yaxley subsequently replacing Scrimgeour as the Director of Magical Law Enforcement without having hired a deputy director, everything had been absolute chaos. And then there was the fact that a few employees had disappeared and Carolina wasn't sure if they had quit or been fired or… worse.

"Throughout this transitional period however, your resolve to maintain the organization, timeliness and direction of our department has not gone unnoticed. Now, despite, shall we say, warnings that you were at one point in your Hogwarts career an adversary to the Ministry…"

Carolina grimaced. What had Umbridge been telling him?

"Despite all that unpleasantness, I have found that there is none here who works with as much diligence and dedication to magical law as you do and am pleased to offer you a chance to… ascend within our department."

"Sir?" Carolina's eyebrows shot up. She was getting a promotion? That was rather unexpected.

"Yes, Carolina, I would like for you to take on the role of Interim Deputy Director. Unfortunately, we cannot offer you a significant raise, however…"

Carolina felt her jaw drop open, as she lost the rest of his sentence in complete shock. He couldn't be serious… She had only worked here for one year! Actually, almost a year and a half, but still. She was hardly qualified for this position. There were dozens of Ministry employees, both older and more experienced than she who deserved the position more than she did. This couldn't be right…

"Both Dolores and I believed it best that while we begin implementation of our Muggle Registration Committee, it is best that the public sees a strong, pureblooded figure at the helm of our department…" Yaxley continued.

Okay, that made slightly more sense, Carolina decided. They wanted all purebloods to lead the departments. Still, there was Selwyn, Albert Runcorn, a half dozen pureblooded aurors. Why had he chosen her?

Suddenly, a frightful thought shot through Carolina's mind. Was he about to imperius her? Did he pick her because he thought she'd be an easy target, fresh out of Hogwarts?

Carolina's eyes slid across Yaxley's desk to where his twisted wand lay, just by an inkwell. He hadn't picked it up yet, but she'd be ready when he did.

"Now, over the next few months, I will be focusing my energies on assisting Dolores in any way I can with her newfound department and will need you to step up to the legislative affairs that I know you are so talented at handling…"

Right. He wanted a paper pusher that he could load work onto. Maybe he wasn't going to imperius her then. Maybe he was just lazy?

"The first of which, will be repealing the most recent Creature Act, which I believe you have a vested interest in?"

Yaxley looked at her expectantly.

Carolina blinked. What was he talking about?

Slowly, she nodded. "That's right, sir." Better to agree with him than show her confusion and subsequently her weakness.

"I had the most productive luncheon with your father, yesterday…"

Oh. So that's why…

"And he expressed his admiration with your hard work here. I, of course, could only agree with him, having witnessed your steadfastness in these most tumultuous times…"

Carolina didn't want to hear him say it.

"And he offered a significant donation to Dolores's new committee, in good faith, which I, of course, felt obliged to accept…"

Her father had bought the position for her.

"However, he mentioned that upon repealing the tax act, he might be able to donate much more in the new quarter."

Carolina nodded. "Very good, sir." She wanted to sigh, to groan, to yell and scream and even cry, but she held it within, though her chest seemed to tighten in its resistance against her urges.

"I will have my assistant drop by your office before the end of the day with the details of your promotion, but for now, I'd like for you to start drafting legislature to repeal the Creature Tax Act and have it ready to be signed into law by… shall we say, next Friday?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for this opportunity."

"Very good. On you go!" Yaxley brushed his hand through the air lazily, signaling for Carolina's dismissal.

Carolina stood, her stomach churning. None of this was right. Of course she wanted the promotion, but not under these circumstances! Not for this administration, and certainly not bought for her by her father.

"Ah-hem." Carolina paused her miserable walk back to her office at the familiar sound. "Miss Flint, do you have a moment?"

Of all the things to make her day worse.

She turned around, forcing her mouth into a bright smile. "Of course!"

"I hear congratulations are in order?" Dolores Umbridge simpered from below her, standing in front of her new office, her stocky mouth stretching into her familiar sinister sneer.

"Thank you, ma'am." Carolina couldn't quite meet her superior's eyes. Instead, her gaze was focused on the whirling eyeball placed in the middle of Umbridge's door. It was strikingly blue… and Carolina recognized it. It was Mad-Eye Moody's. She felt a waves of nausea course through her body.

"I must say that I certainly wasn't too pleased to hear your name circulating for the interim position and I made my views quite clear to Corban, however he seems to be rather fond of you for some obscure reason…" Umbridge said, malice dripping through her words, despite the smile.

"I, however," the horrid woman continued, "am still not convinced you deserve to be here," she snarled, finally bearing her tiny, pointed teeth. "Nonetheless, I am not your boss." Her voice switched back to its saccharine sweet tones almost instantly. "And subsequently not in charge of the hirings of your department. Now, if you could be a dear and run this list through our courtroom database for me. I am quite busy today. Have it back to me in an hour, please."

Umbridge's pudgy little hands held out a long piece of parchment that Carolina took from her.

"Yes, ma'am."

Umbridge wasn't her boss, but she couldn't exactly refuse to do her bidding, and Umbridge knew this.

Carolina turned away and walked the few yards back to her office, before closing the door and letting out a long breath.

She plopped down into her chair, feeling exhausted. It was hardly eleven in the morning and already, her anxieties were piling up.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. It was all so overwhelming already, and now she was the Interim Deputy Director? She wasn't ready for this…

She slowly opened her eyes to gaze hatefully at whatever list Umbridge had wanted her check, before her eyes widened.

It was a list of supposed muggleborns and half-bloods… With a corresponding court date next to each name. And Umbridge wanted Carolina to book a courtroom for each date?

This was absolutely barbaric… None of these people would even be treated to a fair trial, and indeed, they had done absolutely nothing to warrant a trial in the first place!

Suddenly, an idea came to Carolina. "Geminio," she whispered, pointing her wand at the parchment. The paper instantly split itself into two equal and identical copies. Carolina carefully tucked the new copy into her handbag, before picking up the original.

That vile woman had given her only an hour to create a courtroom schedule for nearly thirty trials? She had better get to work, she decided grimly.

* * *

"Lina!" Fred roared as Carolina closed the apartment door behind her.

Carolina couldn't help the amused grin that floated onto her face at the sight of her boyfriend sprawled on the carpet in their living room, a butterbeer in hand and a humongous wizarding radio in front of him.

"Hey," Carolina said tiredly as she walked over to him. He quickly scampered up as she dropped her bag at her feet.

"Long day?" He wrapped his arms around her as she leant her head into his neck.

"Very long."

"Butterbeer?"

"Yes, please," Carolina moaned.

"Oi! Lee, George, bring one out for Lina!" Fred yelled, making Carolina flinch at his booming voice in her ear.

"Fred…" Carolina groaned, stepping away and pushing a finger into her ringing ear.

"Bit loud?" Fred asked, amusement showing on his face. "Sorry 'bout it. We've been drinking since…" he looked down at his watch. "Well, for a few hours now."

"You're going to do Potterwatch drunk?" Carolina frowned. Some days he and his brother didn't seem a day older than 15. Then, of course, there were nights where Fred proved her otherwise…

Her face flushed at the the thought.

"Lee won't let me contribute," Fred frowned, rolling over and crossing his arms.

"And, we are certainly not drunk," George said, walking into the room. "Why's your face all red?"

"It's not," Carolina responded, shaking her head, to which George merely raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, Carolina!" Lee grinned, joining them and handing Carolina a butterbeer. "How's it going?"

"Better now," Carolina replied, taking a swig of butterbeer.

"Mate," Lee continued, "how long have you been living here?" He gestured to a few unpacked boxes in the corner.

"Don't you start in on me now too," she grimaced, taking another swig.

"What even is all this stuff?" George questioned. "I mean, obviously not clothing or anything since you don't need to use it."

Carolina rolled her eyes. "I'll get it out of here this weekend if I don't get called into the office again."

"Can't you just tell them it's a Saturday and to bugger off?" Fred offered, taking his seat back on the floor.

"Well, actually, not anymore," Carolina sighed. "Yaxley promoted me."

"Really?" George said with interest.

"Interim Deputy Director," Carolina nodded glumly.

"That's…" Lee started to say, but Fred interrupted him.

"More work."

"I know."

"What's he playing at, you think?" Fred asked, sitting up straighter. "No offense, Lina. You know I think you've got a right encyclopedic mental but you're only 19."

Carolina cringed, not wanting to discuss this with them. "My dad gave a bunch of money to the Ministry. And before you start in on me, any of you, I'd like to remind you all that I didn't ask for this to happen!" she finished, haughtily.

"Right, yeah, we know," Fred responded, raising his eyebrows at her outburst.

Carolina plopped down on the couch, a wave of exhaustion hitting her. "Is there food?" she asked miserably.

"George made a steak and kidney pie," Lee grinned.

"Really? That's well domestic of you!" Carolina smiled, winking at George.

"Someone's gotta be in this bloody apartment," George scowled, before his expression softened. "I left a plate for you on the counter."

"Right, we've got less than five minutes till we're on the air," Fred stated, tapping his wand against the radio impatiently.

"We?" Lee raised his eyebrows.

"Aw, come on! I could add loads to the programming!"

"Such as…?"

"A well-needed bout of humor in these dark times!" Fred grinned, taking a swig of his butterbeer.

"Actually, Lee," Carolina interjected quietly. "I thought, well, I think I might have something to contribute today."

Carolina's statement was met with shocked silence as all three pairs of eyes turned towards her.

Carolina gulped. It was nerve wracking, what she wanted to do. What if someone recognized her voice and reported her to Yaxley or Umbridge?

She delicately pulled the replicated piece of parchment from her handbag. "Umbridge gave me this today to enter into the system and…" she handed it to Lee whose face turned into a concentrated frown as he looked over the details.

"It's a list of muggleborns to be called for trial this month," Carolina explained to Fred as George had walked over to lean over Lee's shoulder and read. "I think… maybe if we broadcast it, hopefully some of them might be listening, or someone who knows them could be and… they'd be warned. They could know to go into hiding or to… to at least prepare something."

"I think it's a great idea," Lee beamed. "But we're going on air in two minutes and you need a name!"

"Mate, what if someone who knows her hears her voice?" Fred frowned, voicing Carolina's doubts.

"Fred, I think I want to do this," Carolina responded. "Maybe before next time I can look into voice disguising spells but-"

"One minute!" George called, plopping down onto the couch. "No Kingsley this time?" he asked Lee.

Lee shook his head. "He's at dinner with the Muggle Prime Minister."

"So she can be on it and I can't be?" Fred scowled.

"Budge over and be quiet. And Carolina, you'll need a code name," Lee replied, ignoring the redheads qualms and pushing him away from the front of the radio. "Radius ombrus," he said, swishing his wand through the air, before tapping it onto the radio and holding it up to his mouth like a microphone.

" _And we're back to our regular broadcasts, folks! If you're joining us for the first time, welcome to Potterwatch, the only radio show where resistance reigns! I'm your host, River, and tonight we have a special new segment to introduce to you but before we get to that…"_

Carolina closed her eyes and took a breath in, listening to Lee Jordan's enthusiastic voice spout on about Death Eater sightings and how to protect yourself.

" _With that said, folks, it would probably be good to start enchanting your homes to keep them safe. I have a reliable source that can vouch for the fidelius charm but a general protego totalum would also be mighty useful. Of course, not everything will protect you when the Death Eaters come, especially not any enchanted medallions or necklaces that you may have seen floating around wizarding fashion shops lately. No, I'd like to remind our listeners that the best and most reliable defensive accessory is your wand! Have it on you at all times!_

" _Now, unfortunately, neither Royal or Romulus could make it to the broadcast today, but we do have a new segment for you and a new correspondent, here to introduce our newest segment, 'Goings On at the Ministry,' is…"_

Lee trailed off, offering his wand to Carolina but she merely stared wide-eyed. She hadn't thought to come up with a pseudonym, despite his request for one.

"Er…" She started.

Suddenly, Fred lunged for Lee's wand. " _You can call her Rowena, folks, because she's wicked smart!"_

"Oi! Lee yelled, tugging his wand back and glaring at Fred, before raising his eyebrows at Carolina who nodded.

" _Right. Rowena, over to you."_

" _Er, hello, everyone,"_ Carolina said, feeling her voice tremble slightly. " _It has been, er, brought to our attention that the Ministry has put together something called a Muggleborn Registration Committee, whose goals include interrogating every known muggleborn about their family history. And er, I suppose, arrest muggleborns without a significant alibi or evidence for how they came to be magical… which as we all know is, absolutely bonkers but…"_ she trailed off sadly, unsure of what to say.

" _And luckily for our listeners, a copy of the first list of muggleborns came into the producers of Potterwatch's hands just moments ago,"_ Lee interrupted, pulling the wand back to himself. It was quite impressive, Carolina thought, how casual and easy he sounded. " _Rowena, if you would so kindly read off the list of names…"_

" _Of course, River,"_ Carolina nodded. " _Right. Carmelia Abernathy, Daniel Ambrose, Bernard Bernhaas, Tabitha Coddington…"_

She continued to read the long list. It was awful. All these names, all these people, she thought to herself, they hadn't done anything wrong, except exist. It was despicable, absolutely deplorable!

" _And Verdance Vane,"_ Carolina finished, sighing. " _Now, if you heard your name on this list, you can expect an Owl at your home in the next few days with a letter from the M.R.C. requesting your appearance in court. While we don't know exactly how these trials will go, we do have insight into the characters behind the new committee and have reason to believe that our listeners will probably not receive a fair trial. We suggest that, should they decide to appear in court, they come prepared with documentation of their wizarding family history, or if none exists, perhaps not to show up at all."_

" _And while we do know that many of the dementors have left Azkaban, it still would be a rather dismal place to end up, which is why we urge our listeners to take supreme caution upon entering the Ministry if their are indeed, Muggleborn,"_ Lee continued, pulling the wand back over to himself.

" _Thank you, Rowena, for bringing us that list. Now, if you know anyone whose name has been read, who may not listen to our radio show, we greatly recommend you warning them so that they can better prepare themselves! You've just listened to our newest segment, 'Goings On at the Ministry,' on Potterwatch and if you'd like to tune in next week, we'll be broadcasting at the same time one week from today with the password 'Brian,' as in Albus Percival Wulfric_ Brian _Dumbledore. Now, that's it for tonight folks! Thank you for listening to Potterwatch! I'm your host, River and we'll see you next week!"_

Lee brought his wand down to tap the radio again, as he said, "finite incantatum."

Carolina let out a breath she hadn't know she'd been holding.

"Brilliant job, _Rowena_ ," Lee grinned at her. "Bit shaky in the beginning, but you found your footing right quickly."

"Thanks," Carolina grinned, the rush of adrenaline pushing through her. So what if someone recognized her voice? She had potentially just saved, or helped at the very least, over two dozen wizards and witches from being shipped off to Azkaban. Hopefully, they all knew to listen to Potterwatch…

"No 'thank you' to me?" Fred raised his eyebrows. "We'd all still be here, puzzling about her codename, without me!"

Lee rolled his eyes. "You think you're something of a genius, do you?"

Fred shrugged. "Now everyone will think she's a Ravenclaw and not a Slytherin dating a Gryffindor," he laughed and Carolina couldn't help but smile at him.

"Thank you, babe." She stood up from the couch, before bending down to plant a kiss on his cheek. She certainly didn't mind being compared to Rowena Ravenclaw...

"Eurgh!" groaned George. "Did you just call him 'babe?'"

"You said there was pie in the kitchen, did you?" Carolina called, ignoring George's protests and walking out of the room. She was starving, having delayed dinner for work and then for the broadcast.

"Bring in the firewhiskey too!" called Fred as she grabbed a fork and the plate left out for her. "We should celebrate your first time on Potterwatch!"

"Fred, I have work tomorrow!" Carolina yelled back.

"Accio firewhiskey!"

"Bloody-" Carolina dodged sideways as the bottle of firewhiskey rocketed past her and through the doorway to the living room.

Carolina glared at the boys as she marched back into the living room, plate in hand, before plopping herself down onto the armchair as Fred had taken her spot on the couch.

"You three have work tomorrow as well," she scolded them as they passed the bottle of whiskey jovially between each other.

"Aw, c'mon, Lina!" Fred grinned. "Have one glass with us."

Carolina frowned at him, but slowly allowed her lips to pull upwards at the twinkle in his eyes. "Fine. One glass."

Two hours later, Carolina's one glass had turned into three while George, Fred and Lee had nearly emptied another bottle between them.

"Bollocks, I have to piss," groaned George. "Oi! Mate!" he shook his knees where Lee's dirty socks were lying in his lap. "Wake up!"

"I'm awake," Lee replied, dozing lightly. "Just flooing home in a mo'."

Fred cackled into Carolina's ear from next to her. "Like that'll happen." At some point in the night, just before Lee had lay down in his stead, Fred had left the couch and squeezed in next to Carolina on the armchair

"Mate, lift your bloody legs up!" George hollered, before adding, "sod it," and pushing Lee's feet off of him. "You two had better not be snogging when I get back," he grumbled.

"Ten galleons he falls asleep in the bathtub," Fred grinned at Carolina, who rolled her eyes.

"He won't. His bed's just over there," she said, pointing towards George's room.

"You sure about that?" Fred grinned again, before kissing her hotly on the cheek.

"I suppose he is quite-" Carolina paused as a firewhiskey-induced burp erupted through her chest and out her mouth. "Pardon, schlossed."

Fred tossed his head back in laughter.

"Oh, shut up," Carolina narrowed her eyes at him, grinning from ear to ear before glancing down at her watch. "Bollocks, is that the time?"

"We need to get you to bed, Madam Deputy Director," Fred grinned.

" _Interim_ Deputy Director," Carolina corrected, before letting out a rather high pitched squawk as Fred's arms encircled her, picking her up. "Fred, put me down!"

"Nope!" Fred laughed as he carried her on wobbly legs over to their bedroom. "You've got a busy day tomorrow bossing around your new subordinates! Must get your beauty sleep!"

"Fred! Oh!" Carolina yelled as Fred haphazardly dumped her onto their bed, before falling over on top of her as well.

"What are you doing?" she asked as his hands deftly maneuvered her cardigan off of her shoulders.

"Getting you ready for bed," Fred winked at her. "Can't have you falling asleep in your clothes with how drunk you are."

"I'm drunk? You've nearly had half a bottle to yourself!" Carolina protested, though she let him continue to undress her, amusement in her eyes.

"Lucky for you, I can handle my liquor," Fred replied easily.

"Hm, that's debatable," Carolina raised her eyebrows.

"All done," Fred grinned, sitting astride her and crossing his arms proudly as if he had just completed a newsworthy task.

Carolina glanced down at her body, now nearly naked with the exception of her bra and knickers.

"Well, I hardly think this is fair."

"What?"

She pushed her back off the bed so that she was sitting up, nearly eye to eye with him as he straddled her thighs.

"That I'm nearly naked and you're still fully dressed," she replied as her hands found their way to the front of his shirt, making quick work of his buttons.

"Unfair indee-oh…" Fred trailed off as Carolina's lips kissed his newly exposed neck and chest. "Lina…" he moaned as her arms encircled his shoulders, pulling their bodies closer together. "Are you sure you want to… you've got work an-"

"Yes," Carolina breathed into his mouth, interrupting him simply. "Now, let me take off your pants."


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter Forty-seven**

* * *

"Lina, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes," Carolina responded, glancing warily at Fred before gesturing to the train tracks in front of them. "I've told you many times. They're completely safe. They just run on electricity instead of magic. Look, you see the third rail? As long as you don't-"

"No, I mean—"

"Christmas."

"Yeah."

Carolina frowned. In truth, she didn't know whether this was a good idea or not. She had received an invitation to come over for Boxing Day at her parent's townhouse two weeks ago and… well, she still wasn't entirely sure why she had written back to them telling them that she'd be there.

"Lina?"

"What? Oh, sorry," Carolina apologized, having lost track of the conversation. "Right. I just… It's probably not the world's smartest idea, but I just… I think… I don't know…" She was floundering. Why did she feel like she needed her parents to meet Fred? To approve of him? She knew that even if they didn't, she would continue to date him but she wanted to try anyways. But still, saying it outloud… the idea seemed ridiculous.

"I haven't had Christmas with them since I was fifteen," Carolina whispered, though the end of her sentence was drowned out as the train came roaring into the underground station.

"Well, if you're sure you want to do this, I'll be right there with you," Fred said solemnly, before taking her hand as the train doors opened. "Do we take this one, then?"

"Yeah," Carolina nodded, giving him a half-hearted smile and pulling him onto the train. "But we'll have to transfer in two stops. They live in Kensington."

Fred raised his eyebrows as they sat down. "Kensington, huh? No wonder you were able to afford 40 galleons for a book."

"It was 20," Carolina corrected, thinking back to their first date. "And on sale. And don't say anything like that when we get there."

"This will be fun," Fred muttered, miserably observing the other passengers as Carolina nervously bit her nails.

The train ride wasn't very long and soon enough Carolina found herself staring up at the imposing white townhouse she had grown up in. The ivy was bare and cut haunting, vein-like lines across the facade.

"So this is where you grew up?" Fred asked quietly, standing beside her.

"Yeah," Carolina furrowed her brow.

"They're expecting us, right?"

"Er, sort of."

"Lina," Fred frowned, turning to peer at her incredulously. "You didn't tell them I was coming?"

"No, I mean, I told them that I was bringing my boyfriend. They don't know that you're… you," she said, unable to make eye contact.

"Really set us up for success, there, didn't ya," Fred winked.

When Carolina didn't respond, instead opting to continue staring nervously up at the building, Fred put a consoling hand on her back.

"Are you ready?"

"No."

"How 'bout now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"Fred!"

"Listen, Lina, it isn't going to get any easier the longer you wait."

Carolina sighed. "I suppose you're right." She glanced nervously at the street behind her, before stepping forward and climbing the stoop to the shiny black door, before taking the knocker in hand and letting it fall.

The door almost instantly creaked open. "Ah, missus Carolina," her mother's house-elf winced, as if it hurt to talk. Carolina could only imagine what her mother had deemed a worthy punishment that had made the elf act this way. "Your parents are in the sitting room."

"This way," Carolina said, gesturing for Fred to follow her down the hallway, bypassing the sorry elf.

Despite walking ahead of him, Carolina could practically see the look of astonishment on Fred's face as they passed ornately framed portraits of high-ranking Ministry officials and various gilded, antiquated heirlooms.

"Carolina," her mother's steady voice greeted her as she turned left, striding into the sitting room.

"Hello mother, father. Happy Christmas," Carolina said, attempting to smile though she could only manage a short quirk upwards of the sides of her lips. The look on her father's face was particularly grim and her mother's thin lips had virtually disappeared into themselves. "This is Fred."

"Howdy," Fred grinned and Carolina almost burst out laughing at the look on her parents' faces. Howdy? Had he really just said 'howdy?'

Carolina felt her stomach tighten at the silence, finally broken when her father finally responded. "You are dating a Weasley?" her father asked flatly, ignoring Fred's greeting in its entirety.

"Yes," Carolina said, standing her ground. "We've been dating since seventh year—"

"Two years!?" her mother screeched, standing up. "You've been lying to us for two years?"

"I haven't been—" Carolina started, but her mother continued.

"So, what Marcus told us was true! You were on a date in Hogsmeade with a Weasley—"

"Carolina, you of all people must know that the entire Weasley family has been designated as Undesirables and that to associate the Flint name with them would be… inappropriate to say the very least," Carolina's father said solemnly as he too rose from his seat.

"Father—" Carolina started, but he continued on.

"That you would bring an Undesirable into our home—"

"He's not—"

"And to think! I just had lunch with Corban the other day! Oh, I can only guess what he will have to say about this whole affair!"

"You have not only put your employment at risk, but you have endangered out household! Our good name!" Her father boomed.

Carolina felt her vision cloud with tears. She felt angry. Angry at her parents, angry at the Ministry and most of all, angry at herself for allowing her hopes to rise as they had. Why had she thought that this could go any other way than it had?

Suddenly, Carolina knew what she must do. "Fred, could you wait in the hallway?" She asked, interrupting her mother's tirade. She couldn't have her parents tell Yaxley about her and Fred as they were threatening to do. She wouldn't put the Order at risk like that.

"What? Lina, why?"

"Please, just… please do it." Carolina met her parents' icy stares solemnly.

Fred nodded slowly, before turning his back and exiting to wait in the hall, closing the door behind him.

Her parents were older than her. Had more experience with magic. More years of practice, but Carolina had the element of surprise. And, she had graduated top of her class. She was good enough to be in the Order of the Phoenix. She was good enough for the Ministry. She could do this.

"I can't believe you would bring a blood-traiter into our home!" her mother hissed. "That you would knowingly romance one is an entire other story! Where did we go wrong to raise such an ungrateful—"

"Stop," Carolina said, resolutely interrupting her mother. "That's enough." She pulled her wand out of pocket. "Stupefy! Stupefy!" she called, hitting both of her parents squarely in the chest, before they could even look for their wands.

As they fell back stiffly onto the couch behind them, Carolina felt her chest tighten. This wasn't what children were supposed to do to their parents.

She slowly raised her wand again. "Obliviate," she said quietly, starting with her father, focusing on extracting his memory of the past ten minutes. "Obliviate," she repeated, this time watching the gleaming, white memories leave her mother's skull and trickle into her wand. They wouldn't remember her being her. They'd merely think that she had stood them up on Boxing Day. That wasn't so bad. At least, it was better than the alternative.

She breathed out, finally feeling a tear roll down her cheek. "Happy Christmas," she said again as her vision blurred.

She turned on her heel, and quickly exited the room, finding a rather forlorn looking Fred in the hallway. She couldn't bare to see the look of knowing pity on his face, so she took his hand, pulling him roughly back down the hallway, past the gilded antiques and the cowering house-elf and out the heavy front door.

Once outside, met with the crisp winter air, Carolina released a breath, as more tears began to slide down her cheeks.

"Lina…" Fred murmured, pulling her close.

"Please, don't say I told you so," Carolina said, her voice muffled by his coat.

"I wasn't going to," Fred responded sadly.

Carolina winced. She didn't like hearing him like that. All serious. It felt… uncharacteristic, like he wasn't Fred anymore. Suddenly, she remembered his greeting to her parents. That had been the most 'Fred' thing to say possible.

She pulled her face back so she could peer up at him. "Howdy?"

Fred grinned, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Just came to me."

Carolina laughed. "From where? How did that possibly enter your brain?"

Fred chuckled along. "Can't say! It's hard to explain genius!"

"Genius?" Carolina cackled. "Howdy!"

"What are you doing here?" a voice snarled from behind them.

Carolina immediately stepped back and plunged her hand into her pocket, fingering her wand and from the side of her eye, witnessed Fred do the same thing.

"Hello, Marcus," she said coldly. She'd forgotten that he had been invited to Boxing Day as well. "Running late as usual," she snarked back, unable to stop herself. Old habits die hard.

"You brought the _Weasle_ over?" Marcus glared at her. "Mum and dad must be thrilled. They'll cut you right out of the inheritance for squandering it on a Weasley."

"Oy!" Fred said, stepping forward and pulling his wand from his pocket.

"Fred," Carolina said calmly, glaring daggers at her brother. "I'll meet you back at the apartment, okay?"

"You're living with the vermin?" Marcus snorted. "With his family in that shack?"

"I just said ' _apartment_ ,' you idiot," Carolina said, before turning. "Fred." She shot him a rather pleading look. "I'll meet you at home."

"I'd rather not leave you with him," Fred said quietly, not taking his eyes off of Marcus's smirking form.

"I can take him," Carolina muttered. "Remember fifth year?"

Fred made no move of recognition, but lowered his wand, his eyes intent on Carolina's brother, before flicking his wand, turning on the spot and disapparating with a crack.

"Take me?" Marcus sneered. "You've always thought you were so much better at magic than me, but I've been out of Hogwarts for four years and—"

"Been practicing much magic, have you? I've heard all you can do these days is fly around on your little broomstick," Carolina responded harshly.

"Shut up!" Marcus said, flicking his wand haphazardly towards Carolina who easily blocked his weak spell.

"We're not going to duel on a Muggle street!" Carolina yelled at him. "I'm a Ministry official! Do you _want_ me to report you?"

"Fine, but just you wait until I've told mum and dad about you and the blood-traitor—"

"You will do no such thing," Carolina interrupted him fiercely.

"Are you going to stop me?" Marcus shot back.

"They won't believe you," Carolina replied, though she wasn't entirely sure that was true.

"Really? I think they will…" Marcus sneered.

"Marcus," Carolina pleaded, "please."

"And why shouldn't I?"

"I just…" Carolina said sadly, thinking back on the morning's events. "I just tried to. I went in there with him and… I had to… I obliviated them," she mumbled ashamedly.

"Oh, they'll be thrilled to hear that part too!" Marcus smirked, stepping towards the stairs.

"Please, Marcus!" Carolina yelled as he approached the door. "They'll be angry enough with me for bailing on Boxing Day. You're already the favorite! What's it matter to you?"

"Me?" Marcus fumed, turning around to glare at his sister. "I'm the favorite? Are you completely fucking mental?"

"Erm, no?" Carolina responded, uncertain of the reason for his anger.

"They're only going on about you every other fucking minute. 'Oh, Marcus, if you'd only applied yourself in school, you could have a _real_ job like your sister!' 'Oh, Marcus, your sister's meeting all these important people!'"

Carolina gaped at him. He had the gall to call her the favorite?

"You're joking!"

"'Oh, Marcus, quidditch will only last you a few more years. Carolina's planned for _her_ future!'"

"That's bollocks, that is! Every time I come over they're only talking about you!" Carolina responded, the shock evident in her voice.

"Bollocks to you, is it? You've ruined my fucking life!"

"No, that's not what I meant," Carolina backtracked. Merlin, her brother was dull. "I just meant that… well… I have _not_ ruined your life," she finished crossly.

"You bloody well have!"

"Oh, I'm sorry if I accidentally ruined your life while helping you study for your N.E.W.T.s or writing your essays for you in Hogwarts!"

"That's not what I meant—"

"Or maybe it was when—" He had a seriously demented look on his face. Probably from concentrating too hard on forming a counterargument, Carolina thought.

"Merlin, just shut up!" Marcus yelled at her.

Carolina closed her mouth, staring daggers at her brother. As he glared back at her, Carolina couldn't help the sides of her lips that slowly slid up into a smirk. Was this Fred's influence? Finding the hilarity in even the stupidest of fights?

"Why are you smiling," Marcus growled.

"You thought I was the favorite and I thought you were the favorite," Carolina shrugged.

"It's not funny."

"Isn't it? A bit?" Carolina snorted.

"No," Marcus said, but Carolina could see his furious brow relaxing, the left side of his mouth quirking up.

"Well, maybe you have a better sense of humor than me," Carolina shrugged, before sighing. "Could you just not tell them? They'll be angry enough with me as it is."

"Why are you even with him?"

"I… I love him, Marcus."

Marcus shrugged, looking down the street. "You could do better."

"Did you just compliment me?" Carolina's jaw dropped open.

"I just mean you could find someone who isn't a fucking blood-traitor," he continued to look down the street, unable to meet her eyes.

"Are you seeing anyone, then?" Carolina asked, stifling a chuckle. What a bizarre conversation to be having with her brother… and on the stoop in front of her townhouse, as well. It was as if the world had tilted just slightly sideways.

Marcus shrugged. "I guess."

"Anyone I know?"

Marcus shook his head. "Doesn't matter. They're just with me to get into the Falcons' parties."

Carolina's eyebrows shot upwards. This wasn't happening… was her brother displaying emotion? Was he… was he coming to her for relationship advice? Had they stepped into an alternate dimension without their knowledge?

"I'm sure that's not true," she said hesitantly, uncertain of what to say.

Marcus shrugged, stowing his hands in his pockets.

"Maybe just… I mean… Do you meet them at the matches?"

Marcus groaned. "Forget I ever said anything," he said, turning around to head into the house.

"Marcus!"

He turned around abruptly again, his hand on the doorknob. "What?"

"Could you… could you just not tell them… please?"

Marcus sighed. "Yeah, fine," he relented, before turning back to the door.

"Oh, and Marcus?" Carolina asked meekly, a thought popping into her head. She didn't know when the next time her brother would be this… cordial to her and, well, there was something she needed to know.

"What?" he scowled, turning back again.

"Four years ago… at the World Cup… was that… was that really our... father? In the mask?"

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "What's it matter?"

"I just… I just want to know… for sure."

"Then yeah. Yeah, it was."

"And was he…? Is he…?" Carolina couldn't finish the sentence.

Marcus stared at her blankly for a moment, before shaking his head. "Draco told me dad owed Lucius a favor. Something about… imports, or something," he grunted at the end.

Carolina let out a breath as she let the information wash over her. "Oh." That's what she had expected had happened but… knowing it for sure… after so long… felt good.

"Right," Marcus replied, rolling his eyes and turning back to front door yet again. "See you at Easter." He pulled the door open and stepped inside.

"Happy Christmas," Carolina mumbled as the door swung shut.

She pulled out her wand, ready to disapparate like Fred had, but found herself unable to perform the spell.

'See you at Easter,' he had said… And she knew, deep down, that she probably wouldn't. Her parents were unlikely to invite her back for another Holiday so soon after she had, in their minds, spurned them, and even if she was invited, she didn't know that she would want to go.

As her feet started moving her back towards the tube station, Carolina felt a certain sadness sweep over her. She had come to a crossroads in her life. Her family and Fred and his family couldn't exist in the same sphere. Her parents would never accept her with a Weasley and Fred would always take issue with her parents' politics… And, she didn't particularly want to continue pretending to not be dating anyone in front of her parents.

Carolina paused at the end of her street, ready to turn onto the next block and looked back at her house. She didn't know the next time she would be back here. She felt a tightness forming in her throat, but swallowed it down, before turning away.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Shorter chapter, but a lot of dialogue! And I promise the next chapter will be longer! Leave a review to let me know what you all thought of Fred's introduction to the Flint family and Carolina's reunion with Marcus!_


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter Forty-eight**

* * *

Carolina's shoulders ached as she trudged up the stairs to the apartment from the back of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She had slung an extra tote bag of documents to edit over her shoulder, along with her normal book bag upon leaving work and regretted her decision to take public transportation home almost immediately after. Squeezed onto an overcrowded train with about 20 pounds of paper was not ideal but she couldn't exactly change her mind and apparate home once on the train.

She dropped the tote bag to the floor so that she could access her book bag, before reaching in to search for her keys. She could hear them jangling somewhere in there but as she dug, they seemed just out of reach. She silently cursed herself for putting an invisible extension charm on her bag and decided to change her approach.

She pulled her wand out of her pocket. "Alohamora!"

The door swung open violently, hitting the back wall and opening the living room to a stunned silence.

"Bit angry at the door, are we?" Fred grinned from where he sat on the couch with George. Across from them, Fleur sat in an armchair with Bill perched on the armrest.

"No," Carolina said sourly, before hoisting her tote back onto her shoulder. "Just couldn't find the keys. Hi Bill, Fleur, George," she nodded, stepping into the room.

"Wotcher, Carolina," Bill replied. "Ready for the weekend?"

"What weekend?" Carolina replied, plopping her heavy bags down onto the floor before falling back into the couch between the twins.

Fleur shot Bill a look before turning back to the three on the couch. "Bill and I are goeeng to Paris for ze weekend and we would like it if one of you could water ze plants for us."

"There isn't a spell for that?" George asked inquisitively.

"We were thinking zat you could stay in ze cottage if you wanted," she added.

"Thought you might want a break, you know? The weather is finally nice and when was the last time any of you had a vacation?" Bill continued. "Was it Egypt, Fred? George?"

"Verity's not working this weekend," George said, turning to his brother. "I can man the store if you two want to take the weekend off."

"There's no such thing as a weekend off for me," Carolina groaned, letting her head fall back onto the couch.

"We'll do it!" Fred grinned at his older brother.

"Fred! I just said—" Carolina started, turning angrily to her boyfriend.

"You can work there just as well as you can here," Fred shrugged.

"I might get called in."

"Then you'll apparate in."

"You can't just decide for me," Carolina frowned, crossing her arms.

"We have a really nice spare room," Bill said kindly. "You could use it as your study for the weekend."

Carolina sighed. She didn't like that Fred had answered for her, but her logical mind was telling her that this was actually a rather nice opportunity. Her and Fred's bedroom was too small for a desk and all of their stuff and that was the main reason she usually went into the office on the weekends; writing on their couch was hardly good for her posture.

"Fine," Carolina agreed grumpily.

"Don't sound so excited," Fred winked as he stood up and stretched. "Butterbeer anybody?"

"I'll take one," Bill said as George agreed with him.

"Fleur? Lina?" Fred asked from the kitchen door.

"Yes, please," Carolina frowned, unable to shake her mood and hoping that a nice, frothy butterbeer would do the trick.

"For me, non, Fred," Fleur said.

"What are you two doing in Paris, then?" George asked. "I thought your family lived in the south?"

"We are haveeng a romantic weekend," Fleur smiled as she affectionately stroked Bill's scarred cheek.

"Ew," Fred said, returning, arms laden with butterbeers. "Right. Cheers, all," he said after quickly passing out the butterbeers as Fleur sniffed affectedly.

"Wizarding Paris has such nice shops…" Carolina sighed. "There's an alchemical bookstore just off le Montmarte Place Cachée that was founded by Nicolas Flamel—"

"You've been to Paris?" Fred questioned, raising his eyebrows at Carolina.

"My father had business there and I would sometimes go with him as a child."

"Recruiting death—"

"Selling dresses!" Carolina interrupted him crossly. "Bill, Fleur, good to see you. I'm going to take a bath," she said angrily as she stood up and stormed into the bathroom, butterbeer in hand.

"I was only joking!" Fred called, before muttering under his breath, "Merlin, she's in a right mood today."

"Well, you're not exactly being Mr. Sensitive, mate," George responded, raising his eyebrows.

"She looked pretty angry when she got here and was probably tired from work," Bill added.

"I reckon you two need a 'romantic weekend' more than they do," George winked at his brother.

* * *

Carolina lay back contentedly on the blanket. She could feel the warm sand through the thin fabric and it's gentle arcs and troughs felt good against her back that was so used to sitting hunched up in her office.

She felt Fred absently lay down next to her.

"If I fall asleep, wake me up so that I don't get a sunburn," Carolina sighed quietly.

"Lina, you're fully clothed." Carolina could just hear the smirk in his voice.

"On my face, I mean."

"Now, if you took off your clothes, you might get a sunburn…"

Carolina opened one eye, glancing warily over at her boyfriend who had a rather cocky look on his face. "Fred, it's ten in the morning—"

"As good an hour as any, I'd wager," Fred grinned, interrupting her.

"And we're in public!" Carolina continued.

"This is public to you? There's no one in sight!" Fred gestured to the empty beach on which they were splayed. Above them on the bluff, Shell Cottage stood like a particularly solid cloud, glistening in the sun.

"We only just got here," Carolina countered.

"So? We're on vacation… and think how good the sun will feel on your skin…" Fred said, trailing a finger down Carolina's left thigh. He, himself, had opted to shed his trousers immediately and was now in his swim trunks and a signature Weasley sweater. It wasn't that warm. Carolina eyed him critically. The hypocrite…

But as she closed her eyes again, she considered his words. It would be quite nice to peel off her jeans. They were far too tight and the sand that had already somehow gotten into them was starting to itch.

She slowly sat up, glancing around. His words were true; the beach was empty apart from them. They were completely isolated.

Without saying a word, Carolina undid the top button of her jeans and awkwardly shimmied out of them, refusing to make eye contact with Fred, though from the corner of her vision, she could see him grinning, before he plopped back onto blanket.

She pulled off her jeans, before folding them up and placing them in the corner of the blanket.

"Come here," Fred said quietly, gesturing with his outstretched arm for Carolina to lie closer to him.

She obeyed, playing the side of her face onto his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her.

"That's comfier, right?"

"Maybe."

"I'm only looking out for your well-being," Fred chuckled as his hand moved down her back and gently squeezed her bum.

"Fred!" she reprimanded, though grinning through her false indignation. "Oh, this isn't fair… I wish I owned a bathing suit…" she trailed off.

"Hm, I don't," Fred sighed as he toyed with the elastic of her underwear.

"You may think you're charming but you're actually rather annoying," Carolina said, poking him in the side.

"I think you secretly think I'm quite charming, otherwise you wouldn't be here with me."

"Well, to be fair, I didn't exactly agree to be here with you…" Carolina said, thinking back to the night before when Fred had just assumed her answer.

"You know what I mean," Fred replied, squeezing her again.

"I really should be working," Carolina said worriedly as she thought of the pile of reports that she had brought with her and loaded into Bill and Fleur's spare bedroom.

"We agreed you'd do that in the afternoon. You need to learn how to relax."

"I know perfectly well how to relax," Carolina argued.

Fred raised his eyebrows. "Re-reading Ulick Gamp's memoirs for the thirteenth time doesn't count as relaxation."

"To you. I find it practically meditative."

"Well, you've always been a bit barmy," he laughed.

"Fred!"

"You wrote a fifty page memo on the responsibility of prefects for an extracurricular activity."

Carolina laughed. "That might have been… a bit barmy."

"Just a bit," Fred said as he rolled closer to her so that they were face to face. "I think we should go swimming."

"I don't have a bathing suit," Carolina said, shaking her head.

"Then we'll go skinny dipping," he replied, pulling off his sweater.

"Fred, it's April! The water'll be freezing!"

"I'll cast an imperturbable charm."

"Fred," Carolina frowned, but before she could do anything, he had whipped out his wand, swished it at her and in one swift movement, stood and picked her up. "I think we're going in," he said as he took off towards the water.

"Fred! Put me down! Wait—no!" But it was too late. Carolina felt the immeasurably cold water splash against her skin as Fred lost his footing and fell into the crashing waves with her in tow.

"Fred!" Carolina spluttered as she wiped the water from her eyes, attempting to stand as more waves crashed into them. "You're dead!" she called, lunging towards him in an attempt to dunk him in retaliation.

"Not if you can't catch me!" Fred called, swimming further away.

"Dead, I tell you!" Carolina swam after him, silently grateful that Fred had cast the charm on them. The water was just bearable.

"Wait—Lina—no!" Fred yelped as Carolina, having finally caught him, jumped onto his shoulders, successfully submerging him into the water.

Fred cringed when he finally came up. "I got water up my nose."

Carolina grinned at him. "Now, we're even."

"Fine. Truce?"

"Truce," Carolina agreed accepting Fred's outstretched hand.

As she clasped, it, he suddenly pulled her closer to him. "I can see your bra, you know," he winked, wrapping his arms around her waist as the waves rocked against them.

"Oh, really?" Carolina responded sarcastically. "I wonder why that is."

"Got your blouse a wee bit wet, there," Fred grinned.

"Your fault."

"I will gladly accept responsibility for that," he laughed. "Though I still think you should've gone naked."

Carolina sighed. The shirt was now rather uncomfortable and Fred was right. There was no one around. And she had no reason to be shy about her body around him…

"Fine."

"Wait, really?" Fred looked altogether far too excited, in Carolina's opinion, but she shot him an amused smile anyways.

"But you're going to put my clothes up on the blanket for me and cast a drying spell and if I'm skinny dipping, then so are you," she said, pulling away from him and delicately unbuttoning her blouse, a feat that was proving tricky with how the fabric was sticking to her skin.

"You've got yourself a deal," Fred replied.

After quite a bit of struggle, Carolina finally pulled the silken frock from her body, complete with her bra and knickers and handed them to Fred, raising an eyebrow.

"Now I don't want to get out of the water," Fred groaned.

"We had a deal," Carolina winked swimming away from him. "You know, this actually feels good."

Fred opened his mouth to say something, but seemingly decided against it, turning his back on Carolina and pushing his way out of the waves until he could run up the beach to drop her clothes on the blanket.

Carolina leaned back, allowing her body to float gently. She pulled her toes up so that they were just breaking through the water. Above her, the sky was so blue. She could see tiny little clouds in the distance but they were so far away, it was almost a mirage.

She closed her eyes. Her body had gotten used to the cold water, and it was now rather comfortable. She felt weightless as the waves rolled beneath her back, gently cradling her.

Why couldn't every day be like this? Her eyebrows furrowed together. She had been initially resistant to coming here but Fred was right. She needed this. And despite her hesitance to swim with him, she couldn't think of a single time in her life she had felt this… content. Happy.

"You're so beautiful." Carolina opened her eyes, and lowered her legs so that she wasn't floating on her back anymore and instead facing her boyfriend who had somehow returned to the water rather soundlessly.

"Thank you," she smirked, paddling over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And amazing," Fred added seriously.

Carolina pulled a hand through his wet hair, pushing it away from his face.

"I like it here," she replied simply.

"I thought you might," Fred chuckled.

"Thanks for taking me," Carolina muttered, pressing her naked body against his, before allowing her lips to follow suit.

* * *

"... _And upon the pending approval of the Goblin Liaison office, we at the Treasury department recommend that the total annual appropriations is subject to limitation by the Office of the Minister regardless of Ministry-conducted or otherwise sourced research, data or fiscal projections and should be reviewed as part of the annual financial audit."_

Carolina stared down at the paragraph in front of her. Her eyes stung, possibly from the minuscule text and the harsh desk lamp, but also probably because of the salt water. She closed them, reveling in the small relief.

"Lina!"

She opened her eyes again and swiveled around to find Fred standing in the doorway.

"Dinner's ready," he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. "You'll like this. Better'n George, actually."

Carolina sighed. "Can you keep it warm? I really need to finish reading this memo and I have absolutely no idea what it's saying."

Carolina watched as Fred's expression dimmed, and she felt a tightness form in her stomach.

"Yeah, er, how much longer?" He scratched the back of his head.

"Just a bit. I'll be down soon," Carolina said, promising herself to read quicker as she turned back to the memo before realizing her error. It was at least over 25 pages and if all of the writing was like the last paragraph she had read, it would take her a bit longer than 'just a bit.'

Well, there was nothing for it, she though, furrowing her brow. This needed to get done, needed to be read so that she could recommend a plan of action to Yaxley. And this was important. It was about the Ministry's budget deficit and whether this was a good time to expand their expenditures. It was a complicated read, even without taking into consideration that the ministry was being puppeteered by Lord Voldemort.

She picked up her quill again, ready to jot down notes, and began to read. A moth buzzed absently around the lightbulb of the lamp, its shadow flickering across the pages in front of her.

"Lina."

Carolina looked up again.

"It's been half an hour," Fred said crossly.

"Really?" Carolina glanced at her watch. Bollocks, he was right, which meant that she was reading slower than usual.

"I'm getting hungry."

"I just have…" she leafed through the rest of the report. "Four more pages. Why don't you start without me?"

"I'll wait."

"Oh, er, okay. Shouldn't be that much longer."

"Four more pages?" he grimaced.

"Yeah, four more," she confirmed as he turned away and plodded thickly back down the stairs.

" _...The 'appropriations limit' of each entity of government for each fiscal year is that amount which total annual appropriations subject to limitation may not exceed under Sections 1 and 3 (see second packet for referenced texts)..."_

Carolina groaned. Sections 1 and 3 were in a separate packet? She wanted to murder the Treasury Secretary for sending this her way. Sighing, she pulled out the corresponding packet from the stack of paper on her desk, before continuing to read her previous paragraph.

" _...However, the 'appropriations limit' of each entity of government for fiscal year 1981-1982 is the total of the appropriations subject to limitation of the entity for that fiscal year, corresponding to unforeseen historical circumstances…"_

Unforeseen historical circumstances in 1981? That must be referencing when Lord Voldemort had disappeared the first time… Carolina thought to herself, before pausing . And had ministry spending gone up after his disappearance? That was counterintuitive… Usually, after wars, government spending plummeted and consumer spending skyrocketed, or at least that was what she had read about in history books, but… this was strangely the opposite.

She quickly scratched down a note in the margins to remind herself to compare the annual spending reportages from 1980 through '85 with their current spending, before deciding she had better read sections 1 and 3 if she wanted to know what in the world the text was talking about.

Another half hour passed before Carolina heard her stomach growl and she audibly groaned. Fred… he was waiting for her and she had definitely exceeded the length of time to which 'a bit' could hold claim.

She quickly marked her place with her wand. She'd finish after dinner, she supposed. It would be a late night.

She hesitantly pushed in her chair, before walking out into the hallway. Merlin, it smelled magnificent; like butter and chives and… was that saffron?

She skipped down the steps, grinning but stopped dead in her tracks upon entering the kitchen.

Fred was sitting, looking out the window with a glass of firewhiskey in his hand and a dirty dish in front of him.

"Took you 35 minutes to read four pages, did it?" he asked bitterly, turning towards her.

"It smells really great in here; what did you make?" Carolina asked, hoping that if she ignored his question, he would drop it.

"Bouillabaisse," Fred responded sourly, turning back to the window.

"Really? Isn't that quite difficult—"

"Yes."

"It looks incredible," Carolina said helping herself to stew that was gently simmering on the stove.

Fred merely grunted in response and Carolina sighed. He wasn't going to snap out of his mood.

"Did Fleur give you the recipe?" Carolina asked, sitting down.

"You don't think I could do this on my own?" he snarled.

"No, I just meant that—I'm just making conversation, Fred, you don't have to act like that."

"How am I acting?" he glared.

"Like a bloody child, Fred! I'm sorry I was late for dinner but—"

"I made bloody bouillabaisse!" he yelled.

"Yes, and had I known that you'd put so much effort in I would have—"

"Would have done what? You wouldn't have done anything differently! It's always work first with you!"

"Yes, it's bloody work first! I'm the bloody deputy direc—"

"I _never_ work on inventions when we're together. I _never_ go down to the shop in the evening, even if there are things I have to do—"

"Well, my job is different from yours and—"

"You mean better," he cut across her, turning to stare out the window and tightly crossing his arms.

"What?"

"You think your job is better than mine."

"No, that's not what I said, Fred. Don't put words into my mouth. I said that they're–"

"That yours is more important than mine," he hissed, glaring at her.

"Well, I'm the Deputy Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement! It very well may be!" Carolina yelled, throwing her spoon down with a clank into her bowl as little droplets of broth spilled onto the table.

Fred turned back away from her to the window. Carolina could see the hurt on his eyes as they sullenly studied the window pane.

"That's not what I meant," Carolina sighed, putting her head in her hands. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Why couldn't he just understand? And why did all men have to have such egos? Marcus, Fred, her father, Miles… even Adrian had acted like this a fair few times… unwilling to accept that maybe, just maybe, Carolina was smarter, more hardworking, more ambitious than they were.

But as Carolina looked back up, peaking at Fred through her fingers, she could see his eyes had turned glassy and was suddenly struck by how young he looked. His bottom lip was puffed out in denial, and his brow furrowed like a three year old who had just been told he couldn't stay up past 8 with the adults. She had made him feel… little. She sighed again. She had belittled him; made him feel like he wasn't smart enough for her.

And his family… he'd always been the joker. No one ever took him and George seriously and maybe, maybe this had been a sore spot, Carolina thought to herself. Indeed, she had often heard his mother bemoaning the fact that he and his brother had only achieved six O.W.L.s between them…

This hadn't been her aim. She'd only wanted to communicate that her work _was_ important to her.

She slowly stood up and walked around the table to be in front of him before squatting down. He continued to glare just above her head.

"Fred," she said, pushing his hair back behind his ear. "I'm sorry. I really honestly lost track of time and I know that's not an excuse but… You have to understand, I want to spend time with you. I wish I didn't have bring work home every night and I wish I didn't have to go into the office on weekends but… you know this… If I'm not at Yaxley's beck and call then he'll fire me and then… There'll be no one to warn the muggleborns of their trials. No one to check Umbridge, Yaxley and Thicknesse's agenda and make sure it isn't completely devastating and… And someone has to fight against the corruption and the impunity there! I mean, it's not just You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters, but the whole ministry is rigged to squash any independent thinking, any form of protest or dissidence at all and… well, I'm the last line of defense there…" she trailed off.

He was still staring somewhere above her but his face had softened significantly, so Carolina tried again.

"I am sorry… It's just… my job is important to me. Maybe the most important thing I'll ever do but… I'll… I'll put it off for the rest of the night if you'd like."

"You're not even done?" Fred asked, glancing down at her.

"No," Carolina laughed. "And I have no bloody clue what I'm even reading so it wouldn't make much of a difference if I was done."

"What's it about?" Fred asked, before raising the glass of firewhiskey to his lips and sipping lightly on it.

"Er, the limitations and regulations of the annual Ministry appropriations and department spending and well… that's it, I think. I'm not quite sure."

"Sounds like something you'd want to be sure about," Fred said, raising his eyebrows.

Carolina grinned. He finally seemed to be coming back to his old self. "It does, doesn't it?"

"And Fred?"

"Hm?"

"My job… it's only important because of your job."

Fred sent her a questioning look, but didn't respond, so Carolina continued on.

"I mean… there'd be no use for a Wizarding Government if… your job gives meaning to people's lives. It makes them happy. It helps them create memories with their friends and families. You bring joy and Merlin knows that that's the most important thing one can do right now—"

"You should eat the stew–it's ace," Fred said, interrupting her as his cheeks turned a subtle crimson. "I'm a bloody wizard in the kitchen–"

"You're a bloody wizard in every room of the house," Carolina interrupted him , taking her seat again as Fred guffawed.

"I walked right into that one!

"That you did!" she grinned at him, before finally spoon some of the stew into her mouth. "Oh, Merlin's bloody bollocks this is delicious!" she yelped through her chewing, prompting Fred to laugh even harder.

Ten minutes later and Carolina's bowl was empty and Fred was back to his normal self, grinning from ear to ear as he told Carolina about Lee's most recent date-gone-wrong.

"And she, Merlin, she levitated his noodles onto his head and stormed out!" Fred laughed, standing up and grabbing Carolina's plate from in front of her.

"Oh! No, no, Fred! You cooked, I'll do dishes," she grinned, still chuckling over Lee Jordan's bad luck, and took the plate from Fred, before picking up his as well.

She placed them into the sink before grabbing her wand and swishing it so that the soap and sponge began animatedly lathering up their bowls.

"What spell was that?" Fred asked, sidling up behind her to lean his chin onto her shoulder and wrap his arms around her waist. "Mum uses that all the time."

"Lavarus platus," Carolina said.

"Bloody useful. I hate washing without a wand."

"Oh, is that why we always have take out?"

"We don't _always_ have take out," Fred grinned. "This wasn't take out."

Carolina smiled, before turning around in his arms to face him. "Well, now that I know you can cook so well, I expect we'll be having take out less then?"

"Unfortunately, I've never been one for exceeding anyone's expectations," Fred winked at her as Carolina chuckled.

"Too bad; that was incredible," Carolina sighed, relaxing into his arms.

"Mm, you're incredible," Fred murmured before his lips captured hers. It was a heated kiss. His breath tasted like firewhiskey and Carolina quickly found her back pressed up against the countertop behind them, the whirling sound of the soapy sponge soaking the dishes in the sink next to her.

She could feel his eyelashes flicking against the top of her cheek, could feel his hands pulling her hair out of its bun.

"Couch," Fred groaned into her mouth, pulling her away from the kitchen counter.

"How gentlemanly," Carolina laughed as he guided her around the table and into the living room, kissing her as he went.

They landed with a plop of tangled legs on the large leather couch by the fireplace, and Carolina quickly pulled his face lower to hers, deepening the kiss.

After a few moments, Fred pulled his head back to peer into her eyes. "What you said earlier, about the shop… how do you always know just what to say?" he asked earnestly.

Carolina chuckled, before shrugging. "I don't think I do. Actually, I think you're rather good at that yourself."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You always know how to make me laugh, even when things are terrible," she said, reaching her hand behind his neck to pull him back to her but he refrained.

"Yeah? Like when?"

"Like 'Howdy!'" Carolina laughed.

"Ah, yes," Fred grinned, before allowing her hand to drag his head towards her own, meeting her lips.

Carolina sighed into his mouth happily. Despite their fight, today had been such a good day. She'd felt productive, even though she would probably have to go over the readings again; she'd had fun; she'd gone skinny-dipping; she had a delicious meal, and now she was having the perfect snog with her boyfriend on a very comfortable couch.

"Mm, Fred–"she started to say as he pulled away, but he cut her off:

"Lina."

"What were you going to say?" she asked, smiling shyly up at him.

"No, you first." Was it her imagination, or did his eyes looks slightly nervous?

"Oh, I was just thinking that today was lovely… one of the best ever." She felt her cheeks heat up at the confession, though she didn't know why. She had no reason to be bashful around him. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her. "Now you. What were you going to say?"

Fred swallowed, before taking a breath in and staring down at her lips rather intently. "I was just thinking… I know you've got plans, big plans for yourself really, and I know we're young but when the war's over, could you," he finally brought his eyes up to hers and she felt shocked by the depth of their blue, "could you… see yourself marrying me?"

Carolina felt winded. That was… unexpected. "Are you… Are you asking me to marry you?"

"No!" Fred quickly shook his head, before quirking the side of his mouth up into his trademark smirk. "Well, kind of? I just… this weekend has been so nice–having a house to ourselves, living here together–and don't get me wrong, I love living with George–but, well, I want this with you."

Carolina felt her face heat up. How was it this hot in the cottage? They'd opened all the windows earlier… And yet, she felt like she was on fire.

"Fred…" she murmured, but he quickly cut her off.

"You don't need to answer if you don't want to. I mean, you can think about it if you want. I don't want to–" he rambled.

"No, Fred," she said again, this time sitting up and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I have thought about it, er, before now. Loads actually."

"Yeah?" he grinned at her.

"Yeah."

"And?"

Carolina raised an eyebrow, before sliding onto his lap. "And I'll give you a proper answer when you give me a proper proposal with a ring an' all."

"I suppose that's fair," Fred laughed as his hands cupped her cheeks, in attempt to bring her closer to him.

"But I'll have you know that the fact that I'm on top of you right now is a sign pointing towards the affirmative," Carolina winked, running her right hand through his hair. Her insides felt giddy, like that with the slightest touch, she would burst open and a hundred butterflies would erupt from her.

"Merlin, I love you," Fred said, as his hands lowered from her cheeks to her neck and shoulders and then lower and lower down to her bum where they slipped under the skirt of her dress.

Had Carolina been able to take her lips away from his, she would have ardently agreed but she was far too preoccupied with how much she wanted to continue kissing him.

She couldn't believe he had asked her that… All she could think about was that she wanted to be, no… she needed to be closer to him. That she wanted all of the silly pieces of fabric between their bodies to disappear. She wanted to feel him pressed up against her like he had been that morning in the ocean.

"Fred," she moaned as he quickly pulled her dress over her head, before flipping them so that she was lying down on the couch and he on top of her. But that was all she was able to say before his lips were back on hers, heatedly kissing her, and his shirt was off, thrown somewhere on the ground and his chest was pressed against hers and Carolina found that her hands had moved down, somehow of their own accord, to unbutton his trousers.

He briefly stood up to pull them off and Carolina suddenly realized where they were. They were at Shell Cottage and her contraceptive potion was at home, left in the drawer of her bedside table.

His pants were off and he was back on top of her, his mouth trailing kisses down her neck and along her collarbone.

"Fred," she said twisting her head in an attempt to get him to stop.

"Yeah?" he panted, grinning into her eyes.

"I–" she started but cut herself off. She really didn't want to floo all the way back to the apartment and she'd have to get dressed again and… well, he had just… She wrapped her arms around his neck. He'd probably offer to retrieve it for her and that meant she'd have to let go of him… She'd taken it the night before and surely the potion was effective for a full 24 hours?

"I want to go to the beach again tomorrow," she said quietly, gazing up into his eyes.

"Then, that's what we'll do," he grinned, before leaning and pressing his lips into hers again. Carolina closed her eyes, reveling in the warm touch of his hands as they slid up her thighs.

As his mouth moved lower down her body, Carolina couldn't help but think it felt like floating in the ocean–like the couch was rolling under her. She felt her lips burst into a smile, her cheeks aching as his lips kissed her. Today had been the greatest day of her life. This house, in this cottage on the shore with him, surely this had to be what heaven was.

* * *

 **Author's note:** _Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! It is actually the last one I wrote and I finished it only a few days ago, having written the following two back in October and June, respectively. I don't know why I put it off for so long? It was honestly really difficult to write, and I still feel like the narration is a bit heavy-handed at times in this chapter but oh well! I wanted to give the characters a really lovely day together before the end of the story, and this was my attempt at it! Anyways, leave a review and tell me what you think!_


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter Forty-nine**

* * *

" _As clause 337 states, the defendant's testimony will only be admissible upon the completion of…"_

Carolina closed her eyes momentarily from the tinily printed paragraphs in her lap, enjoying the feeling of fingers running through her hair. She let out a sigh and opened her eyes, intent on finishing the report she had to review.

"Fred," Carolina started, ready to scold him for interrupting her reading, but was cut off by his lips.

She couldn't help but smile at their familiar warmth, at the feeling of his hair tickling her cheek, at the weight of his body as he moved over to be on top of her.

"Mm," she sighed into his mouth, marveling at the simple fact that they'd been kissing the same way for years now and it still managed to make her knees go all wobbly and her mind pleasantly numb. She closed her book and dropped it to the side of the bed, before wrapping her arms around him.

"You taste good," Fred said, pulling away momentarily. "Coffee?"

Carolina nodded, before pulling him back in.

"You really shouldn't drink that in the evening;" Fred began, "you'll be up late."

"I thought you liked it when we stayed up late," Carolina grinned, wrapping her legs around him and tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Fred's concerned face split into a smile to match hers and he let out a chuckle. "I do," he said before moving his face down to kiss her neck. Carolina groaned. "I like it when we stay up all night," he whispered into her ear as Carolina's eyes fluttered shut.

Soon enough, his lips were back on hers and his hands were moving up her blouse and Carolina found it near impossible not to smile as she kissed him.

"Oy! Fred! Lina!" George yelled, bursting into their room. "Aw, bloody hell! It's starting-the battle is starting and you've blinded me, you twats," George said, covering his eyes.

"Serves you right for not knocking," Fred responded testily, clambering off of Carolina and buckling his belt that she had deftly undone.

"How do you know it's starting?" Carolina asked, amused at George who was still standing in the doorway, his hand covering his eyes. "You can look now, we're completely clothed," she added, for good measure.

"The galleons," George responded, lowering his hands and scowling at her, before winking. "From the D.A. We're to apparate to the Hog's Head."

"What's starting?" Ginny asked excitedly, pushing into the room past George.

"Gin? I didn't know you were here!" Fred exclaimed.

"That's because you two have been locked in your room all evening," Ginny scowled. "I thought when George invited me over for a cuppa, I would get to see both my brothers, but I suppose I thought wrong. So, what's starting?"

"The battle! At Hogwarts!" George exclaimed. "We've got to go!"

"Right now?" Fred asked, grabbing the green sweater his mother had knit for him that Christmas from Carolina's outstretched hands and pulling it on over his head.

"Yes, right now, you dolt! You think I barged in here just for an eyeful?" George responded, quite exasperated.

"Seems like something you would do," Carolina joked back, picking up her wand the bedside table before turning to look around the room. "Bloody hell, where are my shoes?"

"Accio shoes!" George called out, swiping his wand through the air. Immediately, about four different pairs of shoes came hurtling out from the closet and hallway, banging into his outstretched arms.

"Merlin's beard!" George said as the shoes fell to the floor in a heaping pile at his feet.

"You have to specify what you want," Carolina scolded, picking up a pair of boots from the pile and pulling them on as Fred and Ginny cackled beside her. "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready for at least five minutes," George countered.

"Right, to the Hog's Head, then?" Fred asked, clasping Ginny's hand in his.

George nodded.

"See you there!" Fred responded, pretending to tip his hat before he and Ginny disappeared with a loud crack.

Carolina rolled her eyes before she, and then George followed suit.

Carolina felt a lurch in her stomach as she re-appeared in the the Hog's Head inn, and looked around.

The bar was just as grimey as she remembered, though it was missing the normally shady clientele.

"Wotcher, Carolina!" a familiar voice called out and Carolina grinned as Lee Jordan waved at her from where he was standing, one arm slung over Fred.

"Hey, Lee."

Another sudden cracked resounded around them and George appeared, his arms laden with goods from their shop.

"Blimey, I wish I'd thought of bringing supplies," Fred shrugged as George handed him a jar of Peruvian darkness powder among other assorted merchandise.

George quickly embraced Lee before adding, "Well, you were a bit preoccupied."

"How do we get into the castle from here?" Carolina asked, ignoring George and looking around. "Honeyduke's?"

"You'll be going through the portrait hole," a deep and grizzly voice said from behind her, causing Carolina to jump in surprise.

She turned around to find the old barman standing there, dishrag in hand and gesturing at a painting of a little girl.

Carolina nodded. "And where does it lead to?"

The barman shrugged, before turning around and walking back behind the bar.

"Right," Ginny said, determination in her voice as she swung the painting to the side to reveal a dark and hidden passageway.

She stepped in, followed closely by Fred, Carolina, Lee and George.

"I thought you said you know all of the passageways in and out of the castle," Carolina accused Fred and George, cutting the silence between their footsteps.

"Must be a new one," George answered before Fred could.

"Or," Carolina said smugly, "you two didn't know as much as you thought you knew."

"That can't be it," Fred joked, reaching back for her hand and giving it a squeeze. Carolina squeezed back, feeling slightly reassured by his presence, despite the fact that she didn't know what she was walking into.

Finally, after a minute or two spent in an anxious silence, they came to the end of the passage and stepped out into what could only be the room of requirement.

At least, Carolina had to guess that was where they were, though the room was nearly unrecognizable from any of its previous iterations. There were bathroom stalls set up along one side and hammocks hanging along the walls. The walls themselves were decorated with Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor colors and banners.

When she looked around some more, it became evident by the mess of trunks, loose socks and schoolwork that students were actually living here.

Carolina turned back to look at the portrait hole as more and more members of Dumbledore's Army trickled in.

There was Cho Chang, Katie Bell, Angelina and Alicia, who gave Carolina a little wave.

But more surprising than those four, were the three rather disheveled and scrawny looking Gryffindors at the center of the cluster of Hogwarts students. It seemed that the call for action had come from Harry, Ron and Hermione's return to Hogwarts.

Carolina walked towards them, opening her mouth to say hello to Hermione but was cut off.

"Is it true you broke into Gringott's and escaped on the back of a dragon?" a student called out at the Trio.

"Er, well, yeah," Harry started to say, before being interrupted.

"So what's the plan, Harry?" asked George.

"There isn't one," Harry replied, a disoriented look on his face and rubbing a hand across his forehead.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favorite kind," said Fred, causing Carolina to roll her eyes.

"Of course not! We need to have a course of action if we want to be at all successful—" Carolina started to say.

"You've got to stop this!" Harry exclaimed finally to Neville. "What did you call them all back for? This is insane—"

"We're fighting, aren't we?" asked Dean Thomas, removing his fake D.A. galleon from his pocket and holding it up so that it glinted in the torch light. "The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight! I'll have to get a new wand though—"

"You haven't got a wand?" pestered Seamus Finnegan, another Gryffindor.

Suddenly, Ron burst out in excitement. "Why can't the D.A. help?"

"What?" Harry asked, a pained expression on his face.

"They can help," Ron replied, before leaning over to whisper something to Harry and Hermione. Carolina stared nonplussed at the trio's inadequate leadership. They came to Hogwarts without any solid idea of what they were doing? What were they thinking… If she were to be seen here, it would blow her cover for the Order of the Phoenix.

Finally, Harry looked back up at the motley group clustered around him. "Okay," he started as the room fell to silence. "There's something we need to find. Something-something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?" he asked hopefully peering out at the wide-eyed students before him.

"That seems like something you would know, Lina," Fred said, sidling up to Carolina.

Carolina frowned.

"Despite your best efforts to convince me as such, I am not actually a walking, talking encyclopedia, Fred."

"No? Then how did Ulick Gamp take his tea?"

"He didn't drink tea, only gillywater and firewhiskey," Carolina responded harshly. "But that's besides the point."

"No, I think you just proved my point," Fred grinned. "Now, why don't you search through the stacks of your brain and try to remember if Rowena Ravenclaw had a favorite girdle or something."

"I don't know everything, Fred!" Carolina whispered back, her cheeks flushing as some of the students' eyes turned towards them.

"Finally! She admits it!" Fred cheered, earning even more curious looks and an elbow in the ribs from Carolina.

"Could you two shut it if you aren't going to be helpful?" George responded, before adding with a wink, "and Carolina, I'm disappointed in you. I don't know what the use of having you live with us is if you don't even know about Rowena Ravenclaw's fancy purple slippers…"

"She didn't have any fancy slippers…" Luna Lovegood cut across him dreamily, "but there is her lost diadem."

"A diadem?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed.

"A _lost_ diadem," explained Cho. "No one's seen it in years." She paused, before adding, "If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry? Ravenclaw's wearing it in her statue."

Another flash of pain crossed Harry's face as he muttered something inaudible to Ron and Hermione, before adding slightly louder, "Listen, I know it's not much of a lead, but I'm going to go and look at this statue, at least find out what the diadem looks like. Wait for me here and keep, you know—the other one—safe."

"Good, we'll just—" Cho begin, but she was interrupted by Ginny.

"No, Luna will take Harry, won't you, Luna?"

"Oooh, yes, I'd like to," the blond replied happily. As Cho's face contorted into a disappointed expression, Carolina briefly remembered her old roommates telling her about Chang's date with Potter… it had been the same weekend that Fred had asked her to Hogsmeade. Ginny probably didn't want Harry around his ex-girlfriend, and Carolina couldn't blame her, remembering the sick feeling she had felt the night of the twin's birthday when she had found out that Fred and Angelina had used to hook up.

She casually stepped closer to Fred and intertwined her fingers with his, before giving his hand a squeeze.

Fred tilted his head downwards inquisitively meeting her eye and Carolina just shook her head, letting him know it was nothing.

Once Harry had left the Room of Requirement with Luna in tow, the occupants of the room broke back into an animated chatter, playing catch up.

Carolina let go of Fred's hand and pushed her way through the crowd to Hermione. "I think we should come up with a plan—"

"Oh, hi, Carolina!" Hermione said, rather startled, as if Carolina's voice had broken her out of a daydream. "Yes, a plan..." She turned to Ron. "We need to figure out what to do if he actually finds it."

Carolina furrowed her brow. "No, I mean, what to do with all these people… He's not going to find Ravenclaw's lost diadem in Hogwarts…"

"Hermione," Ron said with wide eyes. "What about… what about the chamber—you know—the second floor bathroom?"

Carolina shot him a confused glance. Now wasn't the time to go running off to the bathroom. Besides, they had perfectly good stalls in the Room of Requirement.

"Ron, that's genius!" Hermione exclaimed. "Sorry, Carolina, we'll have to catch up later," she said apologetically, as she grabbed Ron's hand and ran with him from the room.

"Where are those two going?" George asked as he, Fred and Lee stepped over to her.

"The bathroom, I think?" Carolina said, staring off after them with a puzzled look on her face.

"So, to snog then," Fred chuckled smugly. "Good for him! Looks like he's been reading that book we got him," he added, raising his eyebrows at George.

"I hardly think Hermione would run off in a time like this-" Carolina started but she was interrupted by Lee Jordan.

"What book was that?"

" _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_ ," George replied.

"Learned everything we know from it," Fred added.

"So it's a rubbish book then," Carolina added sourly, not liking that no one besides her was taking the situation at all seriously.

"Ooh! Burn!" shouted Lee.

"Worked on you though, didn't it?" Fred smirked, swinging his arm around Carolina's shoulders. "Are you charmed?"

"Hardly," Carolina replied crossly, though she couldn't help smiling as he winked at her. "We really should figure out what we're—"

"Oy! You lot! Look who it is!" Angelina yelled, walking over with her arm around a tall, and rather toned, brunette man.

"Oliver!" Fred, George and Lee hollered at the same time, taking turns giving Oliver Wood a hug. He had certainly grown, Carolina noted. His figure wasn't as willowy or gangly as it had been when she had seen him last… what was it, four years ago? But, she supposed, Marcus didn't look the same either. It was probably the effect of playing on a professional quidditch team.

"Mate, this is my girlfriend, Carolina," Fred said, pulling Carolina closer into the circle of people.

"Hi," she said, stretching out her hand to shake his but Oliver's hardened look made her drop it quickly.

"You're dating Flint's little sister? Are you mental?" Oliver accused, his Irish brogue harsher than normal.

At that, the group suddenly quieted, and Carolina caught the nervous glances flickering between Alicia, Angelina and Lee.

Fred opened his mouth as if to say something, then paused, apparently not able to find the right words.

Carolina answered instead. "I reckon he is, but not because of me. Those two were born that way," she said, hoping to diffuse the tension as she gestured towards the twins.

George snorted. "Oy! No need to insult me as well," he laughed.

Oliver, after a moment of judgement, seemingly relaxed, before letting out a sigh. "I reckon you're alright," he said, the moment of tension passing.

Carolina opened her mouth, about to respond, but was cut off by another familiar voice.

"Ginny!" It was Molly Weasley's terrifyingly stern voice. "What are you doing here!?" She demanded, storming out of the portrait hole and towards the young redhead.

"I wasn't just going to be left in the twins' flat," Ginny responded, a ferociously brave look appearing on her face.

"Ah, allo, Carolina," Fleur said, sidling up to her and kissing her on both cheeks, having followed Bill, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in through the portrait hole. "I 'ope you and Fred enjoyed your time at our leetle cottage."

Carolina flushed, briefly remembering just how much she and Fred had enjoyed themselves that weekend. "We did, thank you, Fleur."

Fleur beamed angelically at her. "Eet eez just like a leetle piece of 'eaven, non?"

"Yeah," Carolina agreed, blushing again as she caught Fred's eye.

As the Room of Requirement filled up with familiar faces, Carolina felt herself begin to grow more and more panicked. All these students and Order members were here and they had no plan at all… It was the perfect trap; if the death eaters were able to infiltrate the castle while they were still in this room… She shook her head, unwilling to think of the consequences. They needed to plan a defense.

"Remus," she said, walking over to where her former defense professor was standing with Kingsley Shacklebolt. "We need to put a shield charm around the castle or, or… we need to do something!"

Remus nodded his head, about to respond, but changed his answer at Harry's reappearance at the entryway.

"Harry, what's happening?" he asked, striding towards him.

"Voldemort's on his way," Carolina felt herself shiver at the use of his name, "and they're barricading the school—Snape's run for it… Wait, what are you doing here? How did you know?"

"We sent messages to the rest of the Dumbledore's Army," Neville explained.

"You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Harry," Fred added. "And the D.A. let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of snowballed."

"What first, Harry? What's going on?" George added questioningly.

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized," Harry replied and Carolina felt suddenly much better at the thought that they would have an actual plan of action. "We're fighting," he finished determinedly.

Suddenly, at his words, the entire room sprang into motion as there was a mad dash towards the exit and Carolina felt herself jostled about as people pushed into her, attempting to leave.

She swung her head around, searching for Fred's face, and nearly losing her balance. After what she could only assume a fish swimming upstream must feel like, Carolina finally squeezed her way over to him, pulling herself closer as the crowd thinned out.

"You're underage!" Carolina heard Mrs. Weasley shouting at her daughter.

They, along with Fleur, Remus, Harry and the other Weasleys were the only occupants of the room now.

"I won't permit it! The boys, yes, but you, you've got to go home!"

"I won't!" Ginny responded stubbornly, pulling her arm from her mother's grip. "I'm in Dumbledore's Army and—"

"A teenagers' gang!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, her face turning red.

"A teenagers' gang that's about to take him on, which no one else has dared to do!" Fred said from beside Carolina, who inwardly cringed as Mrs. Weasley's wrath was turned towards their direction.

"She's sixteen!" shouted Molly. "She's not old enough! What were you two thinking, bringing her with you—"

Carolina felt a sudden sense of shame overcome her being. How could she not have thought of that? How could she have allowed Fred to apparate here with Ginny? She should have known better… Ginny was only a sixth year.

"Mum's right, Ginny," Bill said soothingly as Carolina stared at her feet. "You can't do this. Everyone underage will have to leave, it's only right."

"I can't go home!" Ginny shouted and Carolina could hear the anger and desperation in her voice. "My whole family's here-my friends! I can't stand waiting there alone and not knowing and—" she stopped, choking on her words and Carolina instantly felt sorry for the girl. She wouldn't have been able to stand for it either, being forced to sit at home while Fred was out here battling. She would have simply gone crazy with worrying… feeling helpless.

After a tense moment, Ginny shook her head. "Fine. I'll say goodbye now then, and—"

Though the last half of her sentence was lost as another redhead came scampering out from the portrait hole.

"Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I-I—"

Carolina felt her chest tighten. It was Percy. Percy, who Fred hadn't spoken to since the Christmas before last… who hadn't bothered to show up to his own brother's wedding… and the earnestness in his face, the need to be forgiven as he looked around at his family members.

Carolina lost track of the conversation as her thoughts plunged inwards and she reflected on her own family.

She could very well be injured or… even… die tonight and she wouldn't have that moment of reconciliation with her family. What if… she never saw her parents or Marcus again. Despite their coldness, they were her family and she wanted them to be at her and Fred's wedding… wanted them to look at her the same way Percy was looking at his family now…

"So, 'ow eez leetle Teddy?" Fleur cut in deliberately ending the awkward silence and breaking Carolina from her reverie.

"I-oh yes-he's fine!" Remus spluttered. "Yes, Tonks is with him, at her mother's—"

"Do you have a picture?" Carolina asked, moving away from Fred as the Weasleys all continued to stare at each other in silence. This was a family moment and even though Fred and she had promised to be with each other… they hadn't shared that with the family yet.

"Yes, yes, here," Remus nearly shouted, pulling a photograph out of his jacket and gesturing to Carolina, Fleur and Harry.

Carolina smiled. The tiny baby in the picture looked so happy; his toothless mouth was wide open in joy and his hair was flickering between brown and green. Apparently, he would be an Metamorphmagus like his mother.

"He has your eyes," Carolina said quietly, smiling up at the scarred man, though she was drowned out by Percy's roar:

"I was a fool! I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a… a…!"

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, disrespectful, power-hungry moron," Fred filled in.

Carolina rolled her eyes. Couldn't he be a little bit more tactful in such a sensitive moment?

"Yes, I was!" Percy replied humbly.

"Well, you can't say fairer than that," Fred said, shaking Percy's hand as Mrs. Weasley's red face burst into tears. Immediately, she ran towards her bespectacled son and consumed him in what looked to be a bone-crushing hug.

As the Weasley's talked amongst themselves, Carolina glanced at Remus and Harry worriedly. They didn't have much time to waste. They-especially the other two-were needed up in the great hall.

Finally, it was decided that Ginny was to stay in the room of requirement, an idea put forth by Remus and begrudgingly agreed to by all other parties, so that she could know what was going on, but would be away from all the fighting.

As they exited the Room of Requirement, Harry worriedly asked the group, "Where's Ron? Where's Hermione?"

"They mentioned going to the, er, bathroom, I believe," Carolina said.

"We reckon they wanted to get a leg over—" Fred added.

"Before the battle begins, an' all," George finished for him, before the two let out simultaneous yelps in response to their mother hitting them over the head.

"Really! I can't believe I raised such a foul-minded boys!"

"Well, looks like we're back at the bottom of the totem pole now that you're back, Perce," Fred scowled at his mother.

"You're sure they said bathroom?" Harry asked, turning to Carolina.

"Yeah," she nodded in response.

When they reached the Great Hall, it was evident that despite McGonagall's best efforts, they were on the brink of chaos. The four house tables were set up, though students were in large numbers running back and forth between them, discussing the events animatedly with their friends.

Carolina felt a little strange as she followed the Weasley family over to the Gryffindor table. She'd never really been on this side of the hall before, having always sat with her fellow Slytherins.

"Silence!" McGonagall's magnified voice finally rang out above the chatter. "Students, please find your seats; we have little time to waste."

Carolina looked around self consciously as all of the occupants of the Great Hall sat down. She could swear that some of older Slytherins were eying her rather rudely-probably confused that their former prefect and head girl would be sitting with the Gryffindors.

"Lina," Fred whispered, tugging on her sleeve and pulling her onto the bench beside him. She had been lost in her thoughts and hadn't realized she'd been the only one standing up still. "Welcome to the best house table at Hogwarts," he continued smugly, his hot breath tickling her ear.

"Gryffindor is _so_ not the best," Carolina countered back.

"It _so_ is," Fred responded, mocking her tone. "If our kids end up anywhere else, I'll—"

"Kids?" Carolina choked out, her face turning bright red.

Fred had the decency to also blush as crimson as a tomato, as he realized what he had just said.

"Fred, this is hardly the time to—"

Both Carolina and Professor McGonagall were cut off—interrupting the transfiguration professor's instructions to the prefects of each house to escort their under-age students to the Room of Requirement—by a shrill, menacing voice that echoed through the castle in terrifying tremors.

Carolina felt shivers run down her spine, instantly closing her mouth and gulping as Lord Voldemort's voice rang sharply through the night air…

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

Several scream erupted from the student body as the younger ones cowered in fear, huddling together.

The voice continued. "Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded… You have until midnight."

As his voice faded away, the hall once again broke into cacophony as one of the Slytherins-Carolina couldn't quite make out who it was from across the hall, but it sounded like the nasally voice of Pansy Parkinson-yelled, "But he's there! Potter's right there! Somebody grab him!" At once, the Gryffindors, then Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws stood up in defense, demonstrating their solidarity with Harry.

Carolina too found herself on her feet, wand drawn, but quickly lowered it as McGonagall began to direct the Slytherins to leave. As the younger students and nearly all of the Slytherins scurried out of the hall, organized by Professor Slughorn, Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward to center himself in front of the remaining students, faculty and fighters.

"We've only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast!" Kinglsey began, taking charge of the situation. "A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters of up the three highest towers-Ravenclaw, Astronomy and Gryffindor-where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells."

Carolina swelled at Kingsley's speech, feeling instantly more confident. This was what they needed. An organized battle plan. And in her opinion, Kingsley was the perfect one to put it into action.

"Meanwhile," the auror continued, "Remus, Arthur, Carolina and I will take groups into the grounds." Carolina's eyes bulged open. He was giving her power of command? She briefly met his gaze and felt her chest fill with pride. She had been made Head Girl after all… and she was the deputy director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had been training for this moment since becoming a prefect five years earlier.

"We'll need somebody to organize defense of the entrances of the passageways into the school—"

"Sounds like a job for us!" called Fred, as he gestured towards himself and George.

Kingsley nodded in approval, before continuing his speech. "All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops!"

"Lina," Fred said, taking her forearm in his hands and pulling her close to him before she had a chance to walk over to the front of the room. "Stay safe, don't do anything stupid."

"I've never done anything stupid," Carolina countered back slyly, before wrapping her arms around his neck.

Fred rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean… I just… I don't know what I would do if you got hurt or… if you…" he trailed off and Carolina felt a knot forming in her stomach. Her throat was dry.

She nodded, before taking a breath. "You don't do anything stupid either, Fred."

"Well, that might be difficult," Fred joked back, seemingly releasing the tension from before. "I'm usually at my smartest when I'm doing something stupid."

Carolina felt a grin split her face. Fred always knew what to say to make her feel better.

"How about a good luck kiss, then?" Fred asked cheekily, leaning in towards her.

"I'll give you a kiss when this is over and I see you've kept all your limbs intact," Carolina responded, winking at him. "Give you something to work for, right?"

Now it was Fred's turn to grin. "You've got a deal."

"Carolina!" Remus called from behind her, beckoning her to follow him, Arthur and Kingsley.

She gave Fred's hand one last squeeze, before turning and running after the three men.

"Right, our first order of business is to help set up the shield charms around the castle," Remus said as they hurried down the many moving staircases towards the entryway. "Arthur, I want you stationed by the north tower. Kingsley, you can head over to the Greenhouses. I'll take the Astronomy tower and Carolina, I want you over near Hagrid's hut. Once the shield is in place, we should reconvene back here."

Carolina nodded gravely as they ran through the front doors.

She continued running down the steady slope towards Hagrid's cabin. When she was a few yards away, she slowed down, raising her wand and closed her eyes. This needed to be the strongest shield charm she would ever produce.

"Protego totalum," she said steadily, feeling her wand vibrate in her hand as a golden net sprouted from the end, floating and expanding in the air until it met what must have been the webs from Mr. Weasley's and Remus's wands to form a golden bubble that subtly faded into nothingness.

She added a few other protective spells for good measure, before jogging back up the hill to the front doors where the other three men were reconvening.

"That should hold them off for at least a little while longer," Remus said calmly.

"Perhaps we should booby trap the edge of the forest?" Kingsley offered.

"It's too late," Remus responded. "Exiting our protective charms will only weaken them."

"What do we do now, then?" Carolina asked, looking for guidance at the hollow face of her favorite professor.

"We wait," Mr. Weasley answered resolutely, staring out towards the forest determinedly.

Carolina nodded, feeling tense. She didn't know what was worse… the actual battle that would inevitably happen or the helpless anticipation of it.

* * *

Carolina paused, taking stock of her surroundings. She felt out of breath, but the death eaters within her vicinity were nearly all knocked out. She ran over to aid Dean Thomas who looked rather worse for wear. She stupefied the death eater he was dueling and was about to tell him to gather the others so so that they could reorganize when suddenly, the forest erupted. Trees were uprooted, the ground was shaking, and Carolina watched in horror as giants, nearly 20 of them, came stomping towards the castle, leaving cow-sized footprints in their wake.

"Get back to the castle!" she heard Remus yell from somewhere to her left.

Carolina didn't need telling twice. She took off at the fastest speed her legs would take her. She could confidently battle death eaters, but giants...? Who knew if her spellwork would even penetrate their thick skin?

Carolina came hurdling in through the large oaken doors, nearly bulldozing over Flitwick, who was charming various gargoyles to attack the oncoming giants.

Carolina looked around, panting as familiar faces flew past, chasing, or in some cases, being chased by masked men and women.

Nearly twenty paces ahead of her, she caught sight of Angelina Johnson, battling a rather overweight death eater with a grizzly blond mane.

"Stupefy!" Carolina called out, hitting the back of the death eater.

"Thanks!" Angelina called, before running down the corridor.

Carolina heard a scream from somewhere above her and took off up the stairs.

She arrived at the third floor, where the scream had come from only to see a mess of bodies littering the floor. She felt her stomach drop in fear. Was that Luna's blond curls beneath a pile of rubble? She drew her wand, intent on excavating the young witch, but was caught off guard when a deep voice bellowed from behind her, "Avada Kedavra!"

Carolina threw herself against the stone wall just in time to escape the spell. She shot a burning hex in the direction that the spell had come from, before stepping out around the corner to reveal herself and identify her assailant.

"Ah, Ms. Flint, I didn't expect to see you here…"

Carolina brandished her wand, expecting to put up a shield charm, though no attacking hex came.

Yaxley took a step towards her. "You've been such a diligent little worker bee. It'd be a shame to waste your pure blood…" He casually flicked his wand at her. Carolina slashed hers through the air, deflecting his half-hearted hex.

"Come now, Carolina. There's no reason to resist."

Carolina took a step backwards, as Yaxley continued to move closer to her. She had to think. She had to strike him when he wouldn't be expecting it.

She carefully lowered her wand and attempted to force her expression into something akin to a lost puppy.

"We will need witches like you," Yaxley continued, obviously being lulled into a false sense of confidence by Carolina's lowered wand, "when it comes time to rebuild our world… You will be right beside me, writing the new laws, presiding over the new wizengamot…"

"Relashio!" Carolina's wand moved faster than she had ever moved it before and Yaxley was almost instantaneously bound up in dark coils of rope, his wand lying discarded on the floor next to him.

"Silencio!" she called, before stupefying him for good measure.

Suddenly, the walls shook around her, as a humongous fist came hurtling through the stone scaffolding, destroying the staircase she had run up and crumbling part of the wall. Carolina could only suppose it to be a giant and ran towards the next staircase, intent on distancing herself from its swinging fists.

She hurriedly scampered up a few more floors, sending hexes down at the masked wizards below her.

"If it isn't the littlest Flint, all by her lonesome!" Carolina heard a familiar voice and spun around at the top of the staircase, before dodging out of the way of an incoming hex.

"What are you doing here, Rosier?" she spat, deflecting another jet of light from his wand. She felt disgusted with herself… at one point, she had found him attractive.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dorian drawled, spinning his wand with ease. "I'm cleaning up worthless blood traitors like yourself."

"Is Marcus here?" Carolina queried, dancing away from his spellwork with barely enough focus to send her own hexes back at him. If Marcus was here… would he… would he try to fight her?

"Don't be daft, Carolina! Your brother can't even do a proper shield charm! No, he's useless to the Dark Lord… Now, you on the other hand…" Rosier trailed off, an evil glint in his eye. "You're from a good family, and you've proved yourself admirably… Glowing recommendations from Thicknesse and Yaxley. I'm sure he would forgive you your transgressions if you begged."

"I don't want his forgiveness!" Carolina called back, hatred filling her chest. Everything she had been doing, everything she had been working for at the Ministry, with the Order, with Potterwatch was to make the world a better place for her and Fred and… she shook her head, sending a bat-bogey hex at Dorian, this wasn't the time to be thinking about it but… a better place for the family they might have someday… where there was none of this muggleborn, blood traitor nonsense.

"You'll be begging for his forgiveness by morning, you blood-traitor whore!" Dorian shot at her, a purple stream emitting from his wand.

Carolina blocked it and was about to respond, when she suddenly heard Fred's voice ring out from down the hall and she swung her head around wildly in search of him. "George, behind you!"

Her moment of distraction cost her however, as she felt a stinging hex hit her chest, knocking the wind out of her lungs and sending sharp tremors through her skin and into her ribcage.

"I thought a Ministry employee would be better at magic!" Dorian spat, slicing his wand through the air once again.

Carolina barely jumped out of the path of the green streak of light as it ricocheted down the hall behind her, hitting a suit of armor and scattering into tiny sparks.

Instead of replying, Carolina focused her energy on hexing him, and her impedimenta would have hit him square in the chest had he not drawn up a shield charm moments before.

Over the din of the battle, Carolina could hear Percy yelling from nearby as well. "Hello Minister! Did I mention I'm resigning?"

He and Fred must have been battling Pius, Carolina thought to herself as she blocked another one of Dorian's hexes. Pius was an incredibly powerful wizard... She had to help them!

"You're joking, Perce!" She heard Fred's astounded response.

"Stupefy!" she screamed, finally catching Dorian off-guard and running past him as he was lifted off the ground and thrown backwards onto the stone floor.

"You actually are joking, Perce!" Fred called out joyfully in a moment of strange silence as she rounded the corner, brandishing her wand.

She came to a halt; why had the sounds of spellwork stopped? He was just standing there, beside Percy with what must have been Pius between them, though the Minister looked rather more like a sea urchin now...

Carolina let out a strangled shriek as she watched in horror as Augustus Rookwood came hurtling down the hallway and his wand slashed through the air towards the redheads. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't held off on kissing him until after the battle…

Fred threw his head back in laughter. "I don't think I've heard you joke since you were—"


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter Fifty**

* * *

There were sparks ricocheting off the stone walls, jets of red, green, even golden light everywhere. It was like the the whizzbangs Fred and George had set off on their 18th birthday. Various torches had been blasted off the walls, shouts and yells resounded down the hallway.

And then an explosion. His eyes were wide and unmoving. Dust was lifting in pirouetting swirls up from the ground. His body was slumped against the caved in seventh floor corridor walls. No, his eyes were piercing into hers… She heard an ear-splitting scream echo against the debris and out over the grounds.

Carolina awoke with a start. Her body was cased in sweat and her sheets clung to her limbs as she tried to extract herself from her bed. Her head suddenly felt heavy, as the blood rushed back. As she sat up, she knew instinctively, that the scream she had heard in her dream had been her own. She briefly wondered if she had woken George, but he had probably performed a silencing charm on their room after the first nightmare. Not their room, her room, she silently corrected herself. There was no 'they' anymore.

She slowly stood up. Her legs were sore. Perhaps she'd been thrashing around in her sleep again too. A sudden and familiar wave of nausea overcame her and it took every ounce of her energy to push herself to the bathroom. She had just kneeled in front of the toilet before she began emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl; it was hardly anything. She'd had a hard time feeding herself properly this past month.

It was strange. The nightmares had persisted; hardly a night went by where she didn't see his face in her dreams, but the nightmare-induced nausea… that had only begun a week or so ago.

She wiped the back of her hand against her mouth and rather jerkily got to her feet again. She leant over the sink, turned on the faucet and cupped the cool water in her hands, before drinking it. She proceeded to brush her teeth, desperately trying to erase the taste of bile from her mouth.

She looked out the window. The sky was just light enough for the stars to have recently disappeared. If she listened hard enough, she could hear a few of the earlier birds chirping. It must be quite early. As long as she was awake, she decided, she might as well go into work, so she turned on the shower and waited, sitting on the toilet until the air was gradually overcome with steam.

The ministry was always empty at this hour; her colleagues probably hadn't even sat down for breakfast yet. The atrium was barren; even the paperboys hadn't come in and the only soul Carolina saw as she walked past the empty space where the fountain had been was a lone janitor—an old man on the magical maintenance crew—who was polishing one of the fireplaces that lined the hall. He nodded to her in camaraderie, before turning back to his work.

Carolina sat in her office—yes, her own office. Nearly a month after the Battle of Hogwarts, a month after his… No, she didn't want to think of it today. A week after the battle, Kingsley promoted her to Interim Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, soon after his own special election as Acting Minister, and she found herself sitting in the office that Amelia Bones had once held—the office for which Carolina had originally served as secretary.

Although she didn't have training as an auror, it was a job that suited her quite well. She was one of the only Department of Magical Law employees remaining who had worked under Fudge, Scrimgeour, and Thicknesse, not to mention being mentored by Amelia…

She pulled out the casework she had been reading yesterday: the pretrial notes for the prosecution of a death eater named Dolohov. It had been a busy month, with nearly a trial every day. She was barely caught up on her work and would be called in as a witness next week when Kingsley tried Pius, completely scrambling her schedule—though she knew it was necessary. She had to present the letter of warning he had sent her as evidence.

She plopped the stack of paperwork down in the center of her desk, just next to a small golden statue of a hand gripping a wand up into the air. The trophy gleamed in the early morning light.

One week ago, she had received the award from the Ministry for unwavering loyalty or something of that sort. Her memory had been foggy for the past month, overworked and stressed as she was, and she couldn't exactly remember the ceremony... but it had been for her dedication to revealing the muggleborns and half-bloods who were expected to be called for trial to attest to their blood status, despite the Ministry's furor. There had even been a small write up in the Daily Prophet with an interview but she couldn't recall what had been asked, or what she had replied.

She grabbed her quill, dipped it in her inkpot and began reviewing the casework, scribbling notes on a piece of parchment on the side.

"Ms. Flint? A Mr. Pucey is here to see you?" Her secretary poked his head into the office. Adrian was here? Carolina checked her watch.

"What? Oh-yes, alright, send him in…" It was midday already; she had obviously lost track of the time.

"Hey, Caro," Adrian said, walking in. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, just one moment," Carolina responded, scrawling one last sentence on her parchment.

"I was thinking fish and chips today—nothing fussy after yesterday's buffet," Adrian commented, as Carolina grabbed her sweater.

"Yeah." Adrian had been taking her out for lunch since she had come back to work. It was probably for the best since, if today was any evidence, she would have worked right through lunch and forgotten to feed herself.

It had been a little bizarre, seeing him step into her office unannounced the first day—they hadn't talked in over a year, but he had demanded lunch and she had been in no mental state to refuse him and then… It was like everything had gone back to normal; like they were eating together at the Slytherin table again.

They exited her office and walked towards the lift that would take them to the atrium. Carolina was glad that Adrian hadn't been too fussy about eating out in Muggle London for their lunches. She could hardly get a mouthful in when dining in the Ministry cafeteria as she was constantly bombarded by both well-wishers and employees asking favors of her.

"Have you heard from Marcus at all?" Adrian asked once they were seated in a small pub.

Carolina shrugged. "No, my parents neither."

"Well then, I'm sure it will bring you great joy to know that the Falcons were caught smuggling Albanian brooms in—not industry approved, and have been suspended from the series." Adrian now worked for the department of Magical Sports and Games at the ministry, a job which was, in Carolina's opinion, perfect for him, with the added bonus that she now saw him regularly.

Carolina's mouth twitched upwards. "Not surprising. Black market smuggling runs in the family," she shrugged.

"How's work?" Adrian asked, as their food arrived.

"Mm, could I get a few extra pickles?" Carolina asked the waitress, who nodded quickly and returned to the kitchen. "It's… rather busy. You know, our department was severely understaffed before Kingsley took office… and they haven't added any new hires. Like, my secretary? He's a temp sent up from the maintenance office. Thicknesse bloody stripped us of all the employees."

"You were practically running it under him, eh?"

"Oh, thank you," Carolina said to the waitress as she delivered three more pickles onto the table. Carolina grabbed a chip, paired it with a pickle, bit and chewed, a smile appearing on her face.

Adrian cringed. "That's bloody gross, Caro."

"Wrong," Carolina said through a mouthful as she chewed. "Here, try it!" She stuck out the chip and pickle to Adrian.

"No thanks, I'm okay," he said, pushing her hand away. "Any more nightmares?" he added, casually.

Carolina swallowed her bite a little too swiftly and started coughing. She took a sip of water, calming herself down before answering. "Well, had one last night again."

"You ought to take a dreamless sleeping potion," Adrian commented.

"You ought to mind your own business!" Carolina snapped back, before blushing. "Sorry, Ades, that was rude of me… I'm running on very little sleep." The truth was that Carolina rather preferred the nightmares; at least they were a chance to see Fred again, even though he was always dying in them.

"It's fine," Adrian shrugged. He had gotten used to Carolina's outbursts over the past month. She was grieving, after all.

After lunch, Adrian and Carolina walked back to the ministry together, separating in the lift when she got off on the second floor.

"Tomorrow?" Adrian called, just before the lift doors shut. Carolina waved a thumbs up in response and continued back to her office.

"Any messages?" she asked the man seated at her old desk. It was strange having a secretary older than she, but Carolina couldn't complain. Her coworkers didn't even have secretaries of their own.

"Yes, ma'am. The minister came by, asked for you to stop off at his office before the end of the day. And the new Auror applications came in…"

"Great, I'll take those." Her secretary handed the papers to her as Carolina turned and walked into her office.

She sighed, plopping the papers onto her desk that was beginning to resemble the table in the library she had studied at the night before her N.E.W.T.s, so crowded with papers it was.

She didn't know how she would have time to review the Auror applications, what with her caseload… She supposed it would be another night where her work came home with her. Though, she wasn't complaining about that. She preferred to be busy, although it would be nice to have one or two nights off so that she could look for a new flat and get out of George's hair. He probably would want Lee to move in…

She grabbed her quill and picked back up where she had left off before lunch.

Nearly five hours later, Carolina, having finished Dolohov's casework among others as well as having prepared her witness statement for Thicknesse's trial the following week, checked her watch.

Merlin! It was nearly the end of the day and Kingsley had wanted her to come by his office. She quickly organized the papers on her desk and took off down the hall.

She knocked three times on his large door.

"Carolina," Kingsley's deep voice welcomed her. "Have a seat."

Carolina sat down obediently. She rather liked the Minister's office. He had let in a lot more light than Thicknesse or Scrimgeour had and changed the decor significantly. It was now a rather pleasant place to sit. "How are you holding up?" he asked her casually.

"Fine," Carolina responded. She was sick of people asking her this. She was there, wasn't she? Going to work? Having lunch? Why did they feel they needed to keep checking in on her? It only reminded her of… nope, not right now. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her head. "Was there something you wanted, Minister?

"As you know, the higher profile cases will be coming before the Wizengamot starting next week with Thicknesse, then Umbridge, the Carrows, Avery, Yaxley, the Malfoys…" he trailed off. "I just wanted to make sure you felt you were prepared, and I understand that our department is considerably sparse at the moment, but if there is anything that I can assist you with in preparation, please don't hesitate to let me know."

Carolina sighed. "Actually, the sooner we could hire a director of the Auror program… I'm not sure I'm qualified to review all these applications—and I really don't have time to this week."

"Consider it done. Carolina, if you'd like to take the rest of the day off next week after testifying against Thicknesse—"

"No, no, no need for that," she cut across him. She didn't like people thinking that she was weak in any way.

"Well, if you're sure about—"

Suddenly a knock came from the door.

"Yes?" Kingsley called out. "Ah, hello, Arthur," he said as the middle-aged man's head popped around the door.

"Kingsley, Molly's making a roast tonight—ah, Carolina! I was just about to go to your office next! I'm glad I caught you both before you left. Molly wanted to have a bunch of the Order members over tonight since it's been just over a month today. I believe Harry and Hermione will be there, Hagrid too, Bill and Fleur, Charlie might even show, McGonagall said she would try to make it—"

"I'm afraid I already have plans, Arthur. Dinner with the Muggle prime minister—"

"Really?" Arthur said interestedly. "Could you ask him—ah, never mind. Carolina?"

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense, you haven't been by in a fortnight, and I believe Hermione wanted to talk to you."

"Really, Mr. Weasley, I'd rather—"

"Carolina," Arthur interrupted her again, "I do believe George said he would drag you to the dinner if you came back to the flat tonight, so you might as well come on your own volition."

Carolina turned towards Kingsley hopefully; she really didn't want to go. She didn't know what her role was to any of them now that Fred was gone… she wasn't his girlfriend anymore and she felt rather uncomfortable with Mr. and Mrs. treating her as such.

"Sounds fun," Kingsley said. "Send my regards to everybody."

Carolina scowled. "I'll be there."

"In fact," Kingsley said, looking at his pocket watch, "it's just past six. Carolina if you'd like to head out, by all means…"

"Wonderful! We can apparate there together!" Arthur said jovially.

"I'll just get my sweater," Carolina replied sourly.

"Could you ask the Prime Minister how their aeroplanes stay up?" Carolina could hear Mr. Weasley's voice questioning the Minister from down the hallway as she grabbed her sweater off her coat hook.

She sighed, flicking her wand at the lamp on her desk and instantly darkening the room. She was tired and just wanted a quiet evening.

"Ready?" Mr. Weasley asked, springing up behind her.

"Sure," Carolina said, taking his arm as he offered it to her.

Almost instantaneously, Arthur turned on the spot and Carolina felt the familiar sucking sensation of apparation.

With a dreadful pop, they appeared just outside the burrow. Carolina felt a lurching in her stomach and before she knew it, she was emptying her lunch into Mrs. Weasley's flower bed.

"My dear, are you quite alright?"

"Mm," Carolina started, wiping her mouth rather unceremoniously on her shirt. "Just apparating… I guess I'm not quite up to it."

"Well, come inside, come inside," he said, before adding as they approached, "Carolina, why don't you run upstairs and get cleaned up?"

"Yeah, thank you," Carolina agreed. She probably looked a mess.

She entered the Burrow after Mr. Weasley, who thankfully distracted Mrs. Weasley long enough for Carolina to slip upstairs, shutting herself in the bathroom.

She peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was rather bloated and oily, the bags beneath her eyes were still present, her hair was greasy and there was a bit of vomit on the corners of her mouth.

She turned on the faucet and leaned down to the sink, cupping the running water in her hands and bringing to her mouth. She gargled, then spat. Grabbing a towel, she ran it under the water, before wiping her face. There, a little bit better, she thought to herself. She didn't look completely awful now.

Carolina sighed… She didn't have the energy to socialize with the entire Weasley family right now, let alone with the surviving Order members. She really just wanted to go home, have a cup of tea and read until she fell asleep.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

"Oh! Sorry, Carolina, I deedn't know zat you were in 'ere!" Fleur said, making to close the door.

"No, it's alright; I was just washing up," Carolina replied, drying her hands on the towel.

"Oh, in zat case," Fleur rushed into the tiny bathroom and shut the door behind her.

"Oh, er, I'll just be leav..." Carolina started to say, before pausing. Fleur looked just as crazed as Carolina felt—her eyes just as watery. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, Carolina, I am so glad you are 'ere!" Fleur said, flinging her arms around the perplexed woman. "Obviously, I could not 'ave gone to Molly and my maman ees in Paris—will you stay 'ere?"

"Uh, sure," Carolina said slowly. "What's going on?"

Fleur pulled out a vial from her the small clutch in her hand. "I 'ave not 'ad my period zis month," she said, by way of explanation.

Carolina's mouth formed an 'O' shape.

"Bill and I 'ave been—well, since the Battle, we thought—"

"That's okay, I understand," Carolina said, smiling. "I can stay with you while you do it, if you'd like."

"Oh, would you? Bill is still at work and I am so nervous!" squealed Fleur, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.

"Sure thing. How does it work?" Carolina asked, motioning towards the little clear potion.

"Just one droplet of blood—zen, eef eet darkens, eet means I am pregnant."

"Okay, here, you hold the potion and I'll…" she trailed off, drawing her wand. "Here, open your other palm… _sangus vertuntus_ —Bloody Hell!"

Carolina felt her body lurch forward as the bathroom door opened, slamming into the small of her back.

She reached forward to brace herself on Fleur, simultaneously scratching her own hand with her wand, drawing blood and pushing Fleur backwards into the tub. Fleur, in turn, tried to stop herself from falling into the bathtub and grabbed onto the wall on her right to no avail, dropping the vial, shattering it on the white tiled floor.

Carolina watched in horror as a droplet of blood from her own hand dripped off and landed with a quiet plop in the puddle of clear liquid on the floor.

"Oops! Sorry, ladies!" George said. "Didn't think anyone was in here—should've locked the door. What's going on?" He looked curiously between Fleur who was sprawled in the bathtub, her mouth open, the stricken face of Carolina and the dark red puddle on the floor.

"Mon dieu!" Fleur said, her eyes bugging out from her pretty face.

"No…" Carolina said quietly.

"Right, Percy's hogging the bathroom on the third floor and I've really got to—is that blood?"

"Oui, Carolina…" Fleur started, obviously unsure of what to say.

"No… I can't be…" Carolina said. She tried to think when her last period had been. Must have been mid-April… but she had attributed its disappearance to the stress of the Battle, of Fred's death, of work. And the vomiting that morning… and the pickles and the french fries.

"Merlin…" Carolina muttered, clutching her hand to cover her open mouth as she stared down at the dark potion. This couldn't be possible! She always made sure to drink her contraceptive potion except... well, except for that one night as Shell Cottage... Suddenly, the room felt too tight with the three of them in it, and she felt a bout of claustrophobia coming on. "Sorry, I just have to…" she said, unable to think of an excuse as she darted from the room. As she raced down the stairs, she could hear Fleur's voice, probably informing George of the significance of the potion.

"Ah! Carolina! There you are—Arthur had said you were joining us!" Molly said, embracing Carolina.

It felt like her skin was burning. Too tight! Too tight, she thought of Molly's hug. She wanted to run—to be anywhere but here.

"Arthur's been telling me that you've been busy as a bee, what with all of the trials. I've been keeping up naturally, reading about them in the Prophet, but it must be a very exciting time to be at the ministry!" Molly said cheerfully. How was she this cheerful? Carolina thought, feeling her chest tighten.

"Yeah—right busy," Carolina said joltily. "Er, Mrs. Weasley—"

"Call me Molly, dear!"

"Right, Molly, Mr. Weasley told me Hermione wanted to speak with me," Carolina said, fishing for any excuse to exit the conversation with Fred's mum. "Hermione!" she called as the bushy-haired witch came into the kitchen. "Mr. Weasley said you had a question for me?"

"Hey! Yes!" Hermione responded quickly. "I just wanted your opinion, since you're working in the department I'd like to go into-you see, Harry and Ron have decided to go straight into the Auror program and have decided not to sit for their N.E.W.T.s but I wasn't sure… I mean, after this year…"

Right, N.E.W.T.s, Carolina thought. This was something she could think about right now.

"Hermione, the fact that you're seeking my advice instead of, say, Bill's or Charlie's or George's or… well, I'm sure you know what I would say."

Hermione nodded as if to say, 'go on.'

"You learn so much your seventh year; not just particularly tricky spells and potions, but, and I'm sure you'll make Head Girl—how to organize the massive amounts of work, how to schedule, how to manage students and prefects. I don't think I'd have been half as good at my job if I hadn't taken my N.E.W.T.s… plus, I mean, you really do learn the most important magic… Don't you want to say you've passed your N.E.W.T.s?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah… I agree with all that. I just hate the idea of being back at the school without Harry and Ron and… all the others," the young woman trailed off.

"Carolina?" Carolina heard George's voice calling her name as he descended down the stairs.

"Hermione, will you excuse me?" She said, sidestepping Hermione and running out the back door before George could find her. She didn't want to have that conversation with anyone… let alone Fred's twin brother. She didn't even want to think about the color of the potion.

Once outside, Carolina let out a deep breath she had been holding tightly in her chest.

It was so quiet… so different from inside the Burrow. The only sounds were the light breeze rustling the leaves in the trees and the chirping of a couple birds.

She took a few steps away from the back door and felt the late afternoon sun hit her face, spreading a welcome warmth as she walked out of the shadow of the looming house.

The trees seemed to be moving as if in slow motion, so gentle was their swaying. And the leaves… Carolina felt she had never seen a more vivid green-glistening and golden as the sunlight reflected off of them.

She looked up as she continued walking into the garden. The sun was low in the sky, almost set, and the sky itself was almost bright orange with pink clouds scattered through it.

Carolina felt her eyes blur up with tears. Everything was so beautiful, so calm and perfect, it was as if nothing of the past two months had happened…

She sat down on the bench on which she had sat with Fred as they had rested from de-gnoming the yard for Bill and Fleur's wedding nearly a year ago.

It was astonishing… breathtaking even, that the yard could look so similar, that the sun could still be in the sky and the gnomes still hiding beneath the large zucchini leaves and yet, everything was brutally different.

Sitting there with him… it felt like a lifetime ago.

She felt a quiet breeze pass through her hair, shuffling the leaves on the trees and finally, the sense of claustrophobia seemed to evaporate and she allowed herself to think about her… predicament.

She supposed that she would have to tell her parents. Her mother certainly wouldn't be happy with whatever choice Carolina made. She imagined her mother's shrill voice, reprimanding Carolina about the vast amounts of shame she had brought into the Flint house… that no Flint daughter would have a child out of wedlock… especially with a blood traitor… a bastard child… or, that no Flint daughter would dare abort a child… a spurned woman… a dirty, used girl… Whatever she did, her parents would surely find fault with her decision. Maybe, just maybe it was best if she didn't tell them?

Carolina felt the tears return to her eyes but squeezed her toes together, trying to stifle them.

She certainly wouldn't tell her parents until she had decided what to do.

Why was this happening to her? She thought frantically, the tightness in her chest returning, and rising up through her throat until she felt like it was hard to breathe.

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of it! She hadn't wanted any of this… only to work at the Ministry… to someday join the Wizengamot…

She squeezed her toes even tighter and the tears gradually receded.

As her vision cleared, she felt her breath catch in her chest.

There he was… walking towards her from out behind the trees, a pleasant smile lighting up his face as he made his way through the overgrown garden.

It couldn't be… but he was as clear as day! And wearing the same green sweater he had been wearing the night of the Battle.

As he made his way over to her, he leaned over into one of the flower beds and snatched a small purple flower, twirling in between his fingers absently.

"The war isn't over, Lina…" he said, taking a seat on the bench next to her and looking out at the garden. "You know that."

"Oh, Fred… I don't… I don't know if I can," she said, turning towards him as he fiddled with the flower.

"There's still so much to be done," Fred continued, apparently ignoring her. "Laws that need to be passed; you have to make sure this can never happen again."

"How am I supposed to? I'm—" she couldn't finish her sentence. Why wouldn't he look at her?

"It's just the beginning. There are still those enjoying their impunity. Was Fudge any less guilty than Umbridge, and was she less guilty than Yaxley? This didn't just happen because of one evil wizard—"

"I know!" Carolina shouted, her voice cracking. "I know. I-I told you all this, remember? But you're not listening to me! Fred, I'm pregnant!"

Finally, Fred turned to look at her. "I know you are. What of it?"

"Fred, I can't have it; I'm only 20! I can't—"

"It's not a question of can or can't, Lina," Fred said solemnly. "There are things that need to be done, there are changes you told me you wanted to affect—"

"And if I-if I do… my parents will disown me! I won't have enough money to feed it, I won't be able to go to work, won't be able to—"

"Lina, you are the most stubbornly, obnoxiously determined witch I've ever known. When have you ever allowed anyone to tell you that you couldn't do something? There is no 'can't' with you, only whether you choose to."

Carolina felt tears spring to her eyes as the sides of his mouth flicked upwards into a sly grin.

He was here… and he was right… She felt his hand grasp hers, felt his fingers intertwine with her own, felt warmth spread from her fingertips through her palm and up her arm into her chest. She smiled at him before looking down at their clasped hands but… there was nothing there. Just her hand on the bench. She gasped and looked up but Fred was gone and she felt the tears that had been threatening to roll down her cheeks finally overflow her eyes. It was as if a dam had been broken. Carolina felt her spine bend over, clutching her face, her body rocking back and forth with sobs.

He had been here and now he was gone.

When Carolina finally calmed down, finally brought herself upright again, she felt as if she was going insane. He had been so clear, so vivid. He had even been wearing the same clothes.

She wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. Perhaps it had only been her mind playing a trick on her; showing her Fred so that it could voice its own reason, so that she might listen to herself.

She sighed, that must have been it, before turning back to where he had been sitting—or rather, where she thought she had seen him sitting.

"Oh…" she said, drawing in a breath. There… on the bench next to her was the flower he had been playing with… a purple iris that he had picked from Molly's garden. Carolina hesitantly picked it up, afraid that it would disappear just like he had. But it didn't; instead lying flat in her palm, its petals wilting slightly under the hot summer sun and Carolina was suddenly reminded of the last time she she had seen Dumbledore alive… as she had found him leaving Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"There are things in our world more magical than any spellwork you or I know," he had said and as Carolina stood up, walked from the garden back to the bustling Burrow, she felt she finally knew what Dumbledore had meant.

Maybe it had been in her mind; maybe she had only seen Fred as a vision, telling her what she wanted to tell herself but couldn't say out loud... Yet there was one thing of which she was absolutely certain: somehow he had brought her this iris.

She held the flower tightly to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered into the evening air.

* * *

 **THE END.**


	51. Chapter 51

**Epilogue**

* * *

Iris sighed, watching as her youngest son boarded the Hogwarts Express for his final year. He levitated his trunk up the few steps onto the train, not caring as it scraped against the wood paneled walls. That was so very much like him. Ever since he had turned seventeen, he was using magic to do anything and everything, and he wasn't doing it very thoughtfully, in her opinion.

Still, that was something he would learn on his own, she decided as the young man turned around and waved at her. As he broke eye contact with the trunk, it suddenly stopped levitating and dropped down with a loud thud. She watched as her son's expression changed from a grin to a pained scowl, and she could only imagine the profanity coming from his mouth as he hopped on one leg, holding the foot on which his trunk had fallen.

She chuckled, and waved one last goodbye as he hobbled onto the train, before seemingly forgetting his pain and embracing a friend. Iris turned around and strolled back out into the muggle world, passing through the barrier to platform 9 ¾. It seemed like only yesterday that she had been dropping off her eldest son at King's Cross for his first year at Hogwarts, however she knew that in reality, it had been a long 10 years ago.

She had always been quite fond of the tube, so she decided to forgo apparation and take the Piccadilly line to work. It was a fondness she had inherited from her mother who had always been fascinated by muggle infrastructure. Uncle George had even told her stories of how when she was a baby, her mother would often take her in her carriage for rides on the trains. It had been a sure-fire way to put baby Iris to sleep, he had claimed.

It was well past rush hour, and Iris gratefully took a seat on the train. She pulled out the Daily Prophet from her bag, which had recently instituted a new fancy piece of spellwork to appear like the Guardian to muggle eyes, and opened it to the page she hadn't gotten the chance to read that morning amid all the hubbub of rushing Oscar off to school.

About halfway down the second page, a headline read: " _Obscurus Books to Publish New Complete Anthology of Carolina Flint's Collected Essays._ " Iris sucked in her breath. She wasn't sure how to feel. Publishing her mother's essays–trying to make sense of the thousands of pages of writings collected over a lifetime-had been practically the only project she had pursued over the summer, neglecting the majority of her duties as co-owner and inventor at the shop, and now that it was finished, she felt… well, a bit empty.

" _After the sudden and unexplained death of Carolina Flint, weekly contributor to the Daily Prophet and former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, in May of this year, Obscurus books is now releasing the first published collection of the prolific author and politician's work, edited by her daughter, Iris Flint in conjunction with former Ministers for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hermione Granger. Flint retired from her position at the Ministry at 65, after serving for 47 years, the final 34 of which, she spent overseeing the Wizarding Judiciary as the Ministry's Chief Warlock, and the first two of which she spent raising funds for and planning the Second Wizarding War Memorial in Diagon Alley. Flint became a household name after the Second Wizarding War, with her appointment as Interim Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement under the Shacklebolt Administration and subsequent meteoric rise in rank._

" _During her tenure on the Wizengamot, she produced over 400 essays on the Wizarding Judicial System. A proponent of the radical reorganization of the Ministry after the Second War, Flint's writings are greatly accredited with switching popular wizarding opinion to endorse an elected judiciary and cabinet members. Her most famous essay, titled 'Political Power and Representation,' argued that the corruption that had sprouted from the War could have easily been stymied had politicians been forced to answer to the public and urged Wizarding Britain to reckon with the impunity of our previous government in order to create a new, transparent, corruption-free one._

" _Obscurus Books is excited to announce the upcoming publication of Vol. I of Flint's writings, spanning the years 1995 through 2005. The anthology will not only include her memos as a Magical Law Clerk under the brief tutelage of the late, Honorable Amelia Bones, but will also showcase the acclaimed 'Umbridge Papers,' which Flint wrote at the age of 17 in response to ministry involvement at Hogwarts, and will be published in conjunction with a second edition of Flint's widely read and critically acclaimed 'Accounts.'_

"' _Accounts,' which the wizengamot member published one year after the Battle of Hogwarts, consists entirely of interviews held by Flint herself with those who fought in the Second Wizarding War. The newly minted second edition features formerly unseen photographs taken during and after the Battle of Hogwarts._

" _Pre-sales for both books will be available through distributor Flourish and Blott's starting September 15, with the official release date set for September 30th."_

Iris finished reading the brief article just in time to exit the train at Leicester Square. She folded the paper and shoved it back into her purse. It was short and concise, two traits her mother had always valued, however never been able to fully execute.

Iris had memories of her mother's bedroom-turned-office in their small two bedroom apartment above the shop. Carolina would often fall asleep fully clothed with the lamp still on and a quill in her hand. There were stacks of parchment on nearly every surface and piles of books that always seemed to be precariously on the precipice of toppling over. Her mother's room was in great contrast to the rest of the apartment, which Carolina kept immaculate. She expected her daughter's room to match the majority of their home, a fact that Iris had rued for the greater part of her teenage years, feeling it utterly hypocritical given the messy state of her mother's own chambers.

Iris slipped into the Leaky Cauldron and nodded in greeting at the young barmaid, before heading out back and tapping her wand onto the correct bricks. The bricks began to whir and spin and slowly, an entryway revealed itself in the once solid wall.

Diagon Alley was bustling as usual, although it was quieter than it had been the past week with all of the last minute back to school shoppers. Iris turned right and headed down the cobblestone street towards Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Now that she had dealt with her mother's insanely prolific penmanship, the next project would be emptying the apartment above the shop, where her mother had lived since the age of 19, initially with her father and Uncle George for one year, and then only with George for eight months, and then with Iris herself for the first eleven years of Iris's life, before she started attending Hogwarts.

Not much had changed about the two bedroom since Iris's childhood except that her mother had changed Iris's childhood bedroom into an actual study and library after her daughter graduated Hogwarts and moved out. Carolina's bedroom had still been covered in drafts of essays and paper, but much less so with the addition of a real study.

Iris opened the bright glass door to the shop and a small bell tinkled overhead. Her Uncle George sat behind the wooden counter, dozing off on his stool, his head lolling to the left.

Iris grinned. Despite having turned seventy in April, Uncle George had refused to retire from running the shop, even if he could barely keep up with the hours. He wasn't inventing as much as he used to, Iris had taken over that part of the business after Hogwarts, but he still wanted to be in the shop for at least a few hours each day.

Thankfully, September first was always the slowest day of the year for them, as all of the wizarding families in Britain were preoccupied dropping off their children on the Hogwarts Express.

"Had a good nap, there?" Iris smiled, dinging the bell on the counter.

George awoke with a start and blinked his eyes rapidly.

"I wasn't sleeping, just resting," George grinned at his niece.

"Of course not," Iris grinned back. She sighed and turned around to observe the empty shop. "I just came back from dropping Oscar off at King's Cross."

"I remember how that felt. You know, I was with your mom when she dropped you off for your last year at Hogwarts. It was Freddie's first year, as well."

"I know," Iris said, turning back to him. George had come with her mum every time she dropped off Iris at the station. Even before his own kids were old enough to go, he had been there. "I saw Roxy at the station, she's getting some food with Freddie and said she'd be back in the afternoon."

"And they didn't invite you along? What rude children I raised!" George said dramatically, waving his hand around in embellishment.

"They did, they did," Iris chuckled, shaking her head. "Thought I'd better relieve you of duty, though."

"Oh, I don't mind," George replied, scratching the top of his balding head absently. "You know, I was just dreaming up a new product. Invisibility compasses… they could detect—"

Iris cut him off. "I thought you hadn't been sleeping," she said snidely.

"Can't get anything by you, can I? Just like your mother, and your father for that matter."

"Am I?" Iris grinned. She had loved it as a little girl when Uncle George had told her stories about her father, and she still enjoyed hearing them in her adulthood.

"Just like him," George said, nodding fondly. She really was. Had his bright blue eyes and the same grin that he shared with his brother. And the smattering of freckles across her face, and her lean frame and bony elbows. Even her youngest son Oscar had the trademark flaming Weasley hair. He had also landed himself in Gryffindor, despite having a Slytherin for a mother and both an older brother and father in Ravenclaw.

But more than any physical attribute, Iris had inherited her father's will for trouble, a trait that George had tried his best to foster and add to in her youth, and one of the reasons he had opened the doors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to her after graduation, eventually making her his partner.

"He would have liked Oscar," George continued. "Granted he would have liked Elliot as well, but he would have been over the moon about Oscar."

Carolina grinned. "He was levitating his trunk onto the train and dropped it on himself."

"Sounds about right," George smiled. "Speaking of Elliot, however" he continued, "He wrote me; was wondering if he could move into your mum's flat above the shop with his girlfriend. After it's cleaned out and all. I told him to ask you."

Iris pinched the bridge of her nose. "I suppose… you wouldn't want to use it for anything would you? Maybe add a second floor to the shop?"

George smiled, looking out the window into Diagon Alley distantly. "I'll leave that up to you. It's time for a changing of the guard, if you will..."

"I don't know why he didn't just ask me in the first place, I am his mother after all," Iris complained.

"He said he thought you had a lot on your plate, didn't want to add to it. He's a good kid."

"I suppose it would be good for him to get his own place. I think Jacob is sick of cooking dinner for both of us and Elliot and his girlfriend."

"It's settled then!" George said cheekily. "Put the flat to some good use."

"It's going to take me months to clean it out," Iris groaned, staring upwards at the ceiling, as if she could see through the wooden beams to the mess that lay above their heads.

"Did you know mum was such a hoarder? I doubt there was a single piece of paper she wrote on that she didn't keep."

"I had my suspicions."

"By the way, when I went up there the other day, I found a box I couldn't open. It had the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes insignia on it though, thought you might give it ago."

George suddenly had a wistful look in his eyes, as if he was remembering something that Iris couldn't guess at.

"Bring it out, then," he said resignedly.

Iris reached into her tote bag and pulled out the wooden box, which she had shrunk down to fit. She quickly enlarged it to its natural size with a flick of her wand.

"There's no seam or hinge, nowhere for it to open but," Iris brought the box up to their ears, "there's something inside." She gave it a shake and something did seem to be moving inside.

"I know what this is," George said carefully. "I gave it to your mum fifty years ago, after your father died. It was one of our first products, impossible to be opened by anyone but the owner. Strange that the magic would linger after… well, afterwards."

He pulled out his wand and began muttering spells under his breath, moving his wand along the edges of the box. Thirty second later, Iris heard a click and the top of the box dissolved into thin air, revealing…

"I should have known, more paper," Iris groaned.

"I think you might find these more interesting than your mother's other essays," George said, stepping back so that Iris could get a closer look at the contents.

She stepped forward and picked up the papers, holding them up to her face so she could read them. She pulled her reading spectacles onto her face and squinted. There were about a dozen letters, addressed both to her mum and from her mum.

"Your parents wrote those, their seventh year," George said. "Fred would stand by the kitchen window, waiting. It was very unlike him. Ginny really took the mickey out of him when she found out he was waiting for letters from a girl. They wrote so much that the owl eventually passed out, actually," he finished, smiling fondly while looking at nothing in particular, lost in memory. "Fainted right in Ron's eggs."

Iris smiled and set down the letters, making a note to read them later, perhaps before bed with Jacob. She pulled out the next thing in the box. It was a bound booklet, nearly fifty pages long.

"That was your father's as well," George noted. "Your mother, well, they got into an argument in fifth year, and she wrote that to prove a point. I think he admired her for her gumption so he hung on to it."

Iris felt tears prickling at her eyes and she curled her toes, trying to keep them contained.

"I doubt she would have believed it if I had told her, but he read the entire thing front to back, maybe even multiple times… and it was the most boring waste of paper ever put to use. I stole it from him once when I was curious what he was reading; all about why Hogwarts needs prefects or something… anyways, he read it all, just because she had written it."

Iris felt a tear fall down her cheek and quickly wiped it with her sweater.

"Did she ever tell you how they met?"

Iris shook her head, feeling as if she couldn't trust herself to speak without her voice breaking. Her mother had never really talked about her father. She had gleaned all her information from his siblings and of course, her grandparents.

"Well, I suppose they met second year when he cursed a chicken to follow her around the school, but really, when he started to see her in her own light, was the beginning of fifth year. She had hexed your Uncle Marcus for something… he was probably bullying a first year, and she caught him and put him in a full body bind curse!"

"A body bind curse? On Uncle Marcus?" Growing up, her other uncle had always seemed so meek compared to George, granted she hardly saw him as often as she saw the Weasleys.

"Yeah, your mother and Marcus didn't get along so well back then… Though they made up a bit after you were born, I suppose… Anyways, Fred was smitten. He loved the idea that a prefect would break the rules and hex another student, especially her own brother. I think that was when he really saw her as not just another Slytherin, or Flint's little sister, but as… well, you know. Like I said, he was smitten."

Iris grinned. "And did she like him?"

George shrugged. "Not particularly. I think that memo that you're holding was more to get him off her back than anything else, but it backfired quite spectacularly. And a good thing too, otherwise we wouldn't have you!"

He smiled as he stood off his stool and placed a creaky arm around his niece.

"Hey pops!" Roxy said, the bell jingling as she entered the shop. "Hey Iris, long time no see," she grinned.

"I think it's time for my afternoon nap," George said, smiling as he hobbled out from behind the counter. He grabbed his cap from the shelf behind him, and then continued towards Roxy.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Rox, your mother wants me to remind you about dinner on Friday night."

"Ay-ay, captain," Roxy joked, saluting her father, who saluted back before making his way out the door. The bell tinkled again and was followed by a loud crack as George disapparated.

Iris picked up the other papers in the box and examined them, before slipping them delicately into her tote bag. They all seemed to be related to her father in some way or another.

"He wasn't chewing your ear off again, was he?" Roxy joked, stepping behind the counter with Iris.

"Oh, he's well good company," Iris smiled back. "Though he was asleep when I came in."

"Figures. He's napping all the time now. Drives mum crazy. He falls asleep in the strangest places."

"Like in the shed at the burrow?"

"Heard about that, did you?" Roxy chuckled.

"Well, with everything he's done, he deserves as many naps as he pleases," Iris laughed back.

Roxy paused, a serious look crossing her face. "I used to be jealous of you, you know."

"Seriously?" Iris said incredulously. She had hardly picked up on that from Roxy. They had gotten along for as long as she could remember. And had had nothing but good times when Roxy started working at the shop upon her own graduation. They had even pulled some good ones over on Uncle George.

"Not any time in recent years, but when we were kids… before I went to Hogwarts. I used to think dad liked you more than me… or, wished you were his daughter, or something."

Iris frowned, her eyebrows scrunching. "I'm sorry, Rox, if I'd have known how you felt—"

"No, it wasn't you. I mean, there was nothing to be done about it. And I haven't felt like that in years. Besides, I think… I think sometimes he did wish he could be your father, or that he could help your mum out more or… I think he still feels guilty that he survived and Fred didn't."

Iris nodded. She looked down at the contents of the wooden box that her mother had kept safe for nearly fifty years. "I think my mum felt that too. She never talked about it, mind you, but I think… Yeah, I think she felt it too."

"Iris…" Roxy started. "Did you realize…" she paused her sentence and looked up at the ceiling, into Carolina's flat. "She passed on the fifty year memorial for the Battle of Hogwarts? The same day your dad died?"

Iris nodded. "Yeah," she said slowly. "It was strange though. I had seen her the day before and she was her normal self. She had actually been rather angry, something about the editor of the daily prophet…"

"Hmm," Roxy said, lost in thought.

"Rox, do you mind if I take the afternoon off? No one's been by this morning and I'd like to get started cleaning out the apartment on an easy day."

"Of course, of course!" Roxy said encouragingly.

Iris smiled, grabbed her tote and headed into the back of the store where she and Roxy worked on new inventions. In the back of that room, there were two doors, one to the storeroom where she had used to hide as kid when her mother and she had played hide and seek after hours in the shop. The second door led up to their flat.

It had been a strange death. The healers had even said so. She had been perfectly healthy, bustling with errands to run and things to do as she normally was, though just as forgetful as any 70 year old would be, and then, the next morning she hadn't woken up. The healer's had tried to describe it to Iris as something similar to a muggle condition… something called a 'Heart Attack.' But, it hadn't been like that, they had said. Just that at some point, in her sleep, Carolina's heart had stopped.

Iris had her own suspicions though. It couldn't have been a coincidence that her mother's heart had stopped on the 50 year anniversary of Fred's death…

She stuffed her morbid thoughts to the back for her mind upon opening the door to the flat. Even with her writings cleaned up and organized, her mother's apartment was still a mess. There were trinkets and trophies lining the shelves, and bound volumes of legal documents and history books both muggle and wizarding overflowing onto the floor. On the shelf above the small fireplace was a strange, miniature white cat statue that Iris didn't recognize from seeing around during her childhood.

She let out a breath, knowing that she had a lot of work ahead of her. Then, she remembered the box she had found with the letters written by her parents. Maybe there would be other hidden artifacts in the clutter that her mother had left her that would reveal new stories about her parents' short time together. Iris smiled, despite the task looming ahead of her, and stepped inside.

* * *

 **Author's note:** _Surprise! An epilogue! And happy birthday to Fred and George! Can't believe it's finally done… Thank you all for sticking with the story til the end—your support has meant the world to me. I couldn't have (wouldn't have) written this without you readers—especially those of you who have been following and reviewing this story since the very beginning! I honestly didn't think I would be able to finish a 175,000+ word story (let alone in one year) and I am supremely grateful to all of the readers. I really can't say that enough. If you enjoyed reading my story, please leave a review; it means so much to me when you do. :-)_

 _Also, since a lot of you guys were saddened by Fred's death, I'm considering writing an alternate ending one-shot. And maybe, as recommended by a reader, a chapter regarding Harry, Ron and Hermione breaking into the Ministry. Kind of like a deleted scenes additional story. Let me know in the comments if you would be interested in reading these (and any other one-off chapter ideas you might want to read) and if they have enough support, I will write them ASAP!_

 _Xoxo - CarolinaFlint_

 _P.S. If you like my writing, stay tuned for a new story by me. Hopefully will start publishing it around September/October 2019._


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